


there's nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody (but you)

by punkpete



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy
Genre: "unrequited love", A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bisexuality, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Pete, Sexting, Slow Burn, Stumporta, Teenage Patrick, alpha!patrick, cause we're all about rep in this house, dumb fob lyric references, ill add more tags as i write, im sorry, jealous pete, obviously, they're childhood friends and neighbors, yes i put that in quotes for a reason lmao y'all already Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-06 00:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13399758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpete/pseuds/punkpete
Summary: Pete is an Omega. Patrick knows this. He has always known this. It just never really mattered to him before. Pete is also his best friend. But most importantly, Patrick has never treated him like he was an Omega. Mainly because Pete has never acted like one. In fact, he’s the opposite of every stereotype Patrick can possibly think of. He kneels before no Alpha.Or the one where they're childhood best friends and Patrick is in love and oblivious. Pete isn't your average Omega and he has some secrets of his own. Patrick presents as an Alpha and suddenly everything changes.





	1. you heard that i was trouble but you couldn’t resist

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first chaptered peterick fic, and it is also my first try at A/B/O. i've read a lot of it so i hope it's not terrible!! joe and andy will come into this soon no worries :) kudos and comments are always appreciated and make me want to keep writing <3 find me at tumblr to yell at me about fob @gothicpete. title of this fic is from wilson (expensive mistakes) because i'm trash and it's almost time for mania! the chapter title however is from good girls go bad by cobra starship because.....cobra is underrated okay. just roll with it. love y'all! xoxo

Pete is an Omega. Patrick knows this. He has always known this. It just never really _mattered_ to him before. Pete is also his best friend. But most importantly, Patrick has never treated him like he was an Omega. Mainly because Pete has never acted like one. In fact, he’s the opposite of every stereotype Patrick can possibly think of. He kneels before no Alpha.

 

The only thing Patrick has ever wanted to do is protect him. From society, from what’s expected of him, from the Alphas that cat call him on the streets. Maybe this instinct is something that should’ve tipped him off. But Patrick had always thought he was a beta. He was nearly eighteen, so unless he was an incredibly late bloomer, this was his life. Ordinary, with no animalistic urges or a mate to have and to hold.

 

Patrick is somehow disappointed and relieved all at once. But the problem is: he’s been in love with Pete for as long as he could remember. Since they were kids and Pete was the hot older boy and Patrick just wanted his attention so badly. For a while it seemed like all Pete could ever see him as was a little brother. He’d call him kid and give him noogies and sling his arm around his shoulders and make quips about how young and naive he was. How Pete could teach him to pick up chicks. If only he knew that isn’t what Patrick wanted.

 

As the years had gone by, Patrick eventually got the courage to come out to Pete. With his feelings for him firmly buried, of course. But it was a big step, and he wasn’t sure what Pete would think of him. He’d given him a hug and said he was proud of him. Pete also told him he was bisexual. Patrick was pleasantly surprised by this revelation, as if that gave him a chance in hell.

 

The point is, Patrick is terrified that someday soon Pete will find an Alpha to cherish him and mate with them. Guy or girl, it wouldn’t matter. It would crush him either way.

 

The stupid part is the fact that literally everyone knows except for Pete. Patrick has been following him around like a lovesick puppy for almost his entire life. Even Pete’s mother knows how Patrick feels about him. He’s getting tired of the pitying looks and the hugs from her. He knows she means well, but it just makes him feel worse.

 

Pete and Patrick are many things. Childhood friends, neighbors, partners in crime. But they’ve never been _PeteandPatrick._

 

Pete is out of Patrick’s league. He’s too pretty, too charming, and deserves far better than some nerdy kid with asthma. Pete commands the room, always has to have the attention on him, shines so brightly that it’s blinding. His mere presence seems otherworldly in the face of anyone Patrick has ever met.

 

Patrick has a hard time understanding why Pete dropped out of college and is coming back home. He’s far too smart to be stuck in the Chicago suburbs. But selfishly, Patrick is glad he’s returning. He’s missed him, and he’s graduating soon. He wants to follow wherever Pete goes, as creepy as that may seem. It’s funny to him, how everyone always says Pete is the one who's obsessed with him. Clearly they haven’t seen Patrick’s longing stares and him sulking in the corner whenever Pete flirts with anyone.

 

But it’s possible Patrick is missing a few puzzle pieces of the bigger picture. He’s never been the most observant person, in fact he’s learned to never expect anything from anyone. He doesn’t have high hopes, because he knows they’ll just be shattered. He doesn’t assume that Pete could ever love him back in the same way.

 

Pete tires of his cynical, self deprecating attitude pretty quickly. But there are days when Pete is all in his own head, where he sneaks into Patrick’s room and he cries. They talk, Patrick holds him, and he seems so small then, so unlike the person he presents to everyone else. Sometimes Pete even pleads for him to sing him to sleep.

 

Patrick complies, because he can never say no to Pete. Patrick always insists that he can’t sing for shit, and Pete fiercely tells him that he’s amazing at it. Patrick would much rather bang around on his drum kit or pick up his guitar than sing. But Pete Wentz is a boy that always gets what he wants.

 

When Pete has bad days, Patrick feels as if he’s the older one. He takes care of Pete when his mind won’t be quiet, he comforts him. He pets his hair and tells him it will all be okay.

 

It’s hard to reconcile this Pete and the one he sees every day. The one that vehemently protects him and defends him and beats up bullies. The happy, goofy grin spread across his face and the stupid shenanigans he gets up to. The mischievous twinkle in his eye and the way he always has a scheme on the tip of his tongue, or a sexual innuendo, even a cheesy knock knock joke from time to time.

 

He’s like the moon. Complex, beautiful, lighting up the night sky and bringing in the tide. But most importantly, he has a dark side that only Patrick has the privilege to see. And that means something. It has to.

 

xxx

 

It’s the day before Patrick’s eighteenth birthday, and Pete is home. Patrick is ecstatic about it, yet he’s still nervously pacing the length of his bedroom and wringing his hands together. It’s not that Depaul University is all that far away, but Pete has been busy. He was staying in a dorm, going to classes instead of skipping them, seemingly working hard.

 

Patrick hasn’t seen his face in person since Christmas. To say he’s excited to see that stupid grin and hear that braying laugh would be an understatement. He’s pushed aside the curtains and he’s looking out the window, waiting to see Pete’s familiar, crappy car.

 

When he sees him pull up in front of the house, he can’t contain himself. He runs out the door, past his mother whose sat in the living room, and sprints into the spring air. Everything is warm and vibrant, it smells like fresh cut grass, and Pete is slamming the car door and going around to meet him. It feels like something out of a movie as Pete slides his sunglasses up into his hair and wraps his arms around Patrick tightly, lifting him up and making him squeal.

 

He can feels his mom’s gaze from the front door, but he doesn’t turn around and he doesn’t dare let go. Patrick wants to bury his face in his neck, but he refrains. He pulls back so he can take a good look at him, and he is not disappointed in the slightest. He feels breathless when he meets Pete’s eyes, amber and incredibly full of warmth just for him.

 

He traces down Pete’s body, taking in the leather jacket he must be sweating in and he has to stop his mouth from watering when he takes in the jeans that are slung low on his hips, far too tight to be comfortable. But they hug his thighs perfectly and they’re bright red in the sunlight.

 

Patrick bites his lip, can see the Metallica tank top rides up enough and his pants are so low that the waistband of his boxers are showing as well as a tantalizing strip of golden skin, and that godforsaken tattoo Patrick wants to taste.

 

“Miss me?” Pete teases, quirking an eyebrow and smacking his lips together as he chews a piece of gum that matches the color of his jeans. Patrick stares down at Pete’s endearingly scuffed sneakers and smiles, feeling caught out.

 

“More than I care to admit.” Patrick sighs, because it’s all he can get out around the lump in his throat. He feels weirdly like crying, mostly because it’s been so long and he’s overwhelmed with how happy he is to see Pete’s unfair face.

 

“Thanks ever so much, darling. I missed you too,” Pete laughs, and then he’s grabbing Patrick by the chin and whispering “I’ll eat you up, I love you so.”

 

Patrick is always unprepared when Pete does this, can feel his heart crashing against his ribs even though he knows Pete doesn’t mean it in the way Patrick desperately wants him to. Patrick flushes, from his cheeks down to his neck.

 

“I wish you’d stop fucking quoting that when I least expect it.” Patrick says fondly, rolling his eyes. He loathes to admit he likes it when Pete says things like that to him far too much. Even if they are ridiculous movie quotes.

 

“I’ve gotta keep you on your toes, Lunchbox. Life would be pretty boring otherwise, wouldn’t it?” Pete smirks, and it makes Patrick’s chest glow with warmth and his head fill with forbidden thoughts. Patrick simply huffs and shoves him into the side of the car.

 

“Payback’s a bitch, Wentz. You better watch your back.” Patrick teases him back, because sometimes he can’t resist the urge and he has to give in. Pete throws his head back this time when he laughs, clutching his stomach and elongating the curve of his caramel throat. Patrick lets his gaze linger on the thorns around his neck, wants to bite bruises into his skin.

 

“I’m _real_ scared of a tiny teenage boy with a temper. What are you gonna do, punch me?” Pete’s eyes are crinkled at the corners with amusement thick in his voice.

 

“I hate surprises, so yes. If that’s what it takes to get you to stop giving me heart attacks.” Patrick pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s worried he’s given away too much, but Pete just gives him a predatory grin.

 

“I’ll never stop. It’s too much fun. God, Trick, it’s like you don’t know me at all.” Pete sticks his tongue out at him and crosses his eyes.

 

“Unfortunately, I do.” Patrick groans, and Pete flicks him in the nose for the comment. He opens the car door for Patrick, like the gentleman he is, and bows forward, gesturing for him to climb inside.

 

“Where are we going? Aren’t you gonna see your family first?” Patrick inquires, looking out of the window and meeting his mom’s gaze. He jerks his head towards Pete, and strangely enough, his mother doesn’t scowl. She nods her head, and she even smiles. _Be back by eleven_ she mouths to him, and he gives her a thumbs up over Pete’s shoulder.

 

“Already did, Rickster. As for where we’re going….well, it’s a surprise.” Pete gives him a shit-eating grin and Patrick is so tempted to open the car door and knee him in the balls.

 

“Thanks for this, really. I hate you.” Patrick grumbles, clicking his seatbelt into place as Pete gets into the driver’s side. He throws an empty bottle of Pepsi into the backseat and starts the car.

 

“ _Bullshit._ You love me to death.” Pete replies without missing a beat, turning the dial on the radio and leaving it on the classic rock station.

 

“Mmm,” Patrick tilts his head, as if he’s thinking about it. “That’s debatable.” He turns up the volume on the radio and kicks his feet up onto the dash, beat up converse crossed over one another. He flinches so hard he almost hits his head against the roof when Pete pinches his thigh in retaliation.

 

xxx

 

The surprise turns out to be a trip to the park. But that’s not all, oh no, of course not. May it never be said that Pete Wentz is predictable. He happens to have fireworks in his trunk. You know, the illegal kind. Because they’re all illegal if you don’t have a fucking permit. Also, Patrick really isn’t in the mood to be losing an eye, or any of his limbs for that matter. He’s far too clumsy for this sort of thing. Luckily, Pete is not, and he’s just idiotic enough to do it as the sky darkens around them.

 

But he also brought sparklers, which are far more fun and safe in Patrick’s opinion. He can work with this. So they’re chasing each other around the park with sparklers like they’re kids again. Patrick’s lungs burn and he’s glad he always has his inhaler on him, but it’s the most fun he’s had in months.

 

Pete draws a dick with his in midair and Patrick can’t do anything but smile at his immaturity. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Patrick feels panic swell in his chest when Pete finally takes out the fireworks, wants to scold him, but he’s frozen. He just watches as Pete lights the thing, as it shoots into the sky and Pete is perfectly unharmed.

 

It explodes into an array of colors, looking for all it’s worth like a sparkly, rainbow constellation.

 

“ _You and I were fireworks that went off too soon._ ” Pete whispers, stood so close to Patrick suddenly that he can see his eyelashes. It startles him, the sound of Pete’s voice in the stillness of the night.

 

“W-what?” Patrick stammers, confused and trying to figure out what the fuck Pete could possibly be talking about.

 

“ _And I miss you in the June gloom too. It was the Fourth of July. You and I were fireworks. I said I’d never miss you but I guess you’ll never know. May the bridges I have burned light my way back home._ ” Pete recites it like a prayer.

 

“I’m sorry. Am I missing something?” Patrick blinks, cocking his head at Pete quizzically.

 

“It’s just something I wrote. Tonight reminded me of it.” Pete has a sad smile on his face, small and suddenly closed off as he shakes his head. Patrick isn’t sure what he did to make Pete upset, but he’s determined to fix it. He won’t ruin this night.

 

“What’s it about?” Patrick asks, and he can tell he’s said the wrong thing when Pete’s shoulders rise up near his ears with tension. Pete frowns now, the look in his eyes incredulous. Patrick doesn’t dare think about the words too hard, can already feel them leaving his head.

 

“Nothing. It’s not important anymore. I’m home now, aren’t I?” Pete tries to make his voice cheerful, plasters a smile on his face. But his eyes are vacant, far away. He’s falling into another downward spiral, stuck in his own head. Patrick says the only thing he knows how to.

 

“I’m glad you are. I really did miss you. You’re my best friend, you know that, right?” Patrick says, softly, trying to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder. Pete takes his hand and squeezes it, absentmindedly kicking a rock with the toe of his shoe.

 

“Yeah. Best friends.” Pete sighs, but the tone of his voice seems to indicate that it’s a bad thing. His shoulders sag now, melancholy and unforgiving in the way he’s closing himself off from Patrick. He can’t say anything to make this right. He just follows Pete back to the car and for the first time in forever, the drive back home isn’t the best part of the night. There’s a heavy silence between them, and Patrick can’t seem to figure out why.

 

Pete can’t meet his eye when he drops him off at home and says goodbye. His mom asks him how it went when he gets inside and takes off his shoes. He can’t bring himself to say anything more than fine. He bids his mother goodnight and climbs the stairs to his room with a heavy heart.

 

He gets into bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. Sleeping feels out of reach, his stomach in knots trying to figure out what he did wrong. He has an hour left till he turns eighteen and he already has a bad feeling about it. He hopes Pete will be back to normal in the morning, and his world will no longer feel like it’s upside down. He falls asleep a few minutes before midnight, dreamless and uneasy.

 

xxx

 

Patrick wakes up in a cold sweat, jolting upwards in his bed with the sheets sticking to him. His cock is hard between his legs, throbbing so much that it hurts, leaving his balls aching. He’s disoriented, trying to catch his breath and figure out where that tantalizing smell is coming from. It’s sweet, like peaches and cream.

 

He inhales deeply, his dick twitching and tenting his pajama pants obscenely.

 

He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, feels the panic rising in his gut and the need for his inhaler. He falls out of the bed, crawling around on the floor looking for his skinny jeans. He’s hyperventilating, his vision getting a little blurry as he finally finds his jeans under the bed and pulls out his inhaler.

 

He can feel the tightness in his chest start to lessen after a few minutes, until he finally registers what’s happening. He’s an Alpha. He’s not a beta. He’s going to have to knot, and he has an awful inkling that it’s going to hurt like hell. Worst of all, he can’t do anything but think with his dick and follow that heavenly smell.

 

He’s fucked six ways to Sunday and he’s most definitely going to have to cancel his birthday celebration. Once he investigates that smell he’s going to have to lock himself in his room until this is all over.

 

He also realizes he’s going to have to tell his mom that it’s happening, and he flushes with embarrassment just thinking about it. What a terrible way to spend his first day as an adult. Most importantly, he doesn’t dare tell Pete. In fact, Pete should stay far, far away from him. Where he’s safe from Patrick attacking him and possibly mounting him.

 

He doesn’t know how long a first rut is supposed to last, but he hopes his mother will listen when he tells her not to say a word of this to Pete. She’s a bit of a gossip, but she usually listens to Patrick’s wishes. Especially about something as serious as this. He can do this by himself. He doesn’t have any other choice.


	2. this is my pity party

Patrick is curled into a ball on the foot of his bed, rocking back and forth and sweating profusely with a pillow over his lap when there’s a light knock on the door. It’s definitely his mom and he’s so fucking lucky it’s Saturday and she isn’t coming in to wake him up for school.

 

“Come in.” He croaks hesitantly. He’s really dreading this conversation. He’s also resenting the fact that he’s going to get gypped out of some fantastic cake. Worst of all, he doesn’t know where he stands with Pete, and now he most definitely can’t see him until this is over. He’s gonna have to make up a really good excuse.

 

“Hey sweetheart, happy birthday!” She says cheerfully, a plate of pancakes in her hands and a glass of orange juice. Her face drops when she gets a good look at him. She sets the plate on his nightstand along with the glass and hovers over him, pressing a hand to his forehead. If it were anyone else he’d bat it away, but he just rolls his eyes as sweat rolls down his temple.

 

“More like terrible.” Patrick grumbles. His mom frowns down at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

“Are you sick?” She asks, and Patrick snorts. He wishes. At least he’d know what to do then.

 

“No, Ma. I’m….an Alpha, apparently.” Patrick swallows hard, not daring to meet her eyes. He hears her take a deep breath and he doesn’t have to look up to know she’s as shocked as he is.

 

“Oh, dear.” She says sympathetically, and then she’s got a hand on Patrick’s back, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. Patrick knows she’s trying to help, but he scoots away. He feels like his skin is crawling.

 

“I don’t know how long this is supposed to last since I’m going to be by myself. But we’ll have to cancel the party.” Patrick sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

 

“That’s a shame,” She tsks. “What shall I tell Pete?” She inquires, her voice careful and soft. More pity. Just what Patrick needs. He knows he doesn’t have a lot of friends, okay? There’s no need to single Pete out.

 

“I don’t know! Make something up.” Patrick says shrilly. His mom looks at him, consideringly, and then shrugs her shoulders.

 

“I’ll just tell him the truth. What will it hurt?” His mom says innocently. But she knows exactly what she’s doing. And it’s making Patrick mad.

 

“You will do no such thing. I could hurt him Mom! He’s an Omega, don’t you get it?” Patrick wants to shout, but he tries to contain himself as his face turns pink.

 

“Who’s the mom here?” She quirks an eyebrow at him. “He’s your best friend, Patrick. He deserves to know the truth. It’s not a big deal.”

 

“It is a big deal! He can’t be anywhere near me right now. I can’t risk him finding out how I feel about him.” Patrick blurts, before promptly covering his mouth with both hands for good measure. His cheeks darken in embarrassment.

 

“You act like I don’t already know.” She beams at him, the dimple in her cheek deepening. Patrick is _horrified._

 

“Everyone but him knows, evidently.” Patrick throws his hands up in the air, exasperated.

 

“He adores you, darling. Would it be so bad if he knew?” She pats his head, as if he’s still a little kid.

 

“It’d be the end of the world. He’d never speak to me again.” Patrick huffs miserably. His mother looks like she wants to smack him upside the head.

 

“Nonsense. That boy loves you. Trust me.” Her statement is punctuated by the doorbell ringing, and Patrick is frozen with fear. His mother bites her lip, and then she’s running down the stairs towards the front door. Patrick is on her heels, and he has enough respect to not tackle her to the ground, but it’s a near thing.

 

She still manages to swing the door open before he can stop her, and Patrick wants the floor to open up and swallow him. He’s standing there, dripping sweat, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

 

Pete is on the front stoop, grinning from ear to ear with his eyes sparkling and a gift-wrapped box tucked under his tattooed arm.

 

“Hello there, Trisha. Happy birthday, Lunchbox.” Pete takes a step inside and attempts to shove the box at Patrick. Several things happen all at once: Patrick drops the box, in a futile attempt to cover his crotch. As soon as Pete is inside, his senses are flooded with _that_ smell. Peaches and cream. Fuck, of course that intoxicating, heavenly scent had to be coming from his best friend.

 

Lastly, his mother hugs Pete and whispers something in his ear. Patrick is stuck, watching the way Pete pulls back and the muscles in his shoulders tense up. He should make a run for it, before he gives into the urge to jump Pete and sink his teeth into his neck in a weird attempt to claim him. But he can’t move, feels like his breath is knocked out of him when Pete turns and makes eye contact with him.

 

His mother awkwardly clears her throat and announces that she’s going out to the store before grabbing her keys and scurrying out the door. Patrick is totally gonna have some words with her about this later. It’s like he’s a small, defenseless, cornered animal. And Pete is the predator, intent on ensnaring his prey. Shouldn’t this be the other way around? His head is spinning with confusion and panic.

 

“Is it true?” Pete finally says something to break the silence, the look on his face unreadable. Patrick squints, tilting his head. The question is redundant. If Patrick can smell him, there’s no way Pete can’t smell Patrick too.

 

“Yeah. It’s hard for me to believe, too.” Patrick groans, finally daring to lean down and pick up the gift. It’s slightly better to cover his crotch with. Pete raises his eyebrows at him, and then his face breaks out into a wide, feral smile. Patrick doesn’t know what that means, but it’s making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Abort mission, he needs to get the fuck out of here.

 

“Do you want me to help you out?” Pete asks, calm and cool as can be. Patrick splutters, taken aback by the request. Like Pete Wentz would ever say something like that to _him._

 

“Excuse me?” Patrick squeaks, clutching the gift box in his hands tighter like it can save him from whatever fever dream this is.

 

“C’mon. My baby boy is all grown up now. Let me do this for you. It can just be a friend helping a friend.” Pete replies, licking his lips as an invitation. Patrick can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, feels his cock twitch in his pants. He wants Pete so badly, but not like this. Patrick knows he deserves better than that.

 

“I think you need to leave.” Patrick states, trying to keep his voice even. “Thank you for the gift. I’ll see you when I’m….better.” With that, he turns on his heel and storms back up the stairs. Unfortunately he can feel Pete following him, and he just barely manages to slam the door in his face and lock it before he can get in his bedroom.

 

“Aw, Pattycakes. Don’t run from me, please. It’ll be over real quick if you let me in.” Pete chuckles, tapping his knuckles against the door in a disjointed rhythm. Patrick puts the gift on his desk and sits at the end of his bed again. His cock is throbbing profusely, just with the sound of Pete’s muffled voice.

 

“Fuck you.” Patrick snarls.

 

“I’m trying.” Pete cackles, like this is all some kind of joke. Everything always has to be a game to him. Patrick doesn’t want to be one of his toys.

 

“I don’t even know why you’re here. I thought you were upset with me. Go away.” Patrick growls. He can hear the sound of Pete sliding against the door and landing on the floor with a _thud_.

 

“Patrick,” Pete says, his voice softer now. Patrick knows it’s a trap, just to placate him. But he sinks into the reassurance in his voice anyway, let’s his body relax as he waits for the next blow.

 

“I’m here because it’s your birthday. I wouldn’t miss that for the world. Obviously I didn’t know you were going through... _the change._ ” Pete sounds giddy with it, like this is all he’s ever dreamed of. A shiver rolls down Patrick’s spine at the words, and his hand is sliding down to his crotch and squeezing before he can stop it.

 

“I want you to leave. I’ll call you when it’s over.” Patrick states, trying to sound firm. He fails miserably. His bottom lip is most definitely trembling.

 

“You don’t wanna get laid?” Pete asks. His voice sounds petulant, disappointed.

 

“That’s not the point. It doesn’t matter what I want. I’m like a ball of hormones right now. I’m a virgin, asshole.” Patrick is seething with it, the fact that Pete thinks it’s okay to try and take advantage of Patrick when he’s so vulnerable. When he can’t control himself. When it means everything to Patrick but nothing to Pete.

 

“Wouldn’t it be better this way, though? To do it with someone you trust. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” Pete’s voice is tinged with desperation, but it’s sincere. He wonders if his scent is making Pete as loopy as he feels.

 

Patrick can feel his knees weaken, his resolve starting to crumble. He’s going to regret this, he knows he is. Too bad he’s thinking with his dick and not his brain.

 

“Pete, I can’t. This could ruin everything between us, don’t you see that?” Patrick is pleading with him at this point to just turn tail and leave. Patrick can’t see Pete, but he can vividly picture the face he’s making right now. He’s pouting, for sure. Big puppy eyes and all.

 

“It won’t. I told you we’d take over the fucking world together, and I meant it. It’s just sex.” Pete replies, slamming his head against the door. It makes Patrick flinch, pinch the inside of his thigh to try and control his stupid dick and even stupider mouth.

 

“It wouldn’t be just sex to me.” Patrick admits, so quietly he thinks Pete might not have even heard it.

 

“Oh. I respect you, Patrick. I know I can push boundaries sometimes but….if you want me to leave, I’m gone.” Pete sounds like a deflated balloon. As if all the air has been knocked out of him. He’s grateful he can’t see the look on Pete’s face now, it’d make him feel even more guilty.

 

Somehow he always ends up hurting Pete’s feelings, even when he isn’t the one in the wrong in the first place. He can hear the floorboards creak, Pete getting to his feet.

 

“Thank you. I don’t wanna fuck this up. I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll text.” Patrick makes the promise, his tongue thick in his mouth as he gives his cock more tantalizing pressure. He can’t seem to help it now, his vision is going a little blurry with the pleasure of it all.

 

“Happy birthday, Tricky. Think of me.” Pete chuckles, low and sultry, and then he’s gone. Patrick sits frozen, listening to his retreating footsteps and the sound of the door slamming shut.

 

Patrick is pretty sure Pete will be the death of him someday. Maybe sooner than later at this rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of these chapters will probably be fairly short, or wherever i feel they reach a natural end. either way, that means updates will (hopefully) be pretty frequent! this is also the first thing i'm posting since mania dropped. feel free to comment about the story, or fob in general, down below or at my tumblr @gothicpete. tell me what your fave track off mania is :) the title of this chapter is in fact from bishop's knife trick.
> 
> p.s: patrick's mom definitely ships it.


	3. your naked magic (oh dear lord)

Patrick is home alone, with his door firmly locked and his clothes strung haphazardly around the room. He’s finally getting some relief, his hand stroking his cock at a manic speed. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip, his back arching off the bed and he can feel his dick thickening at the base. It scares him a little, but he thinks if he just keeps going he can get it over with, hopefully with minimal pain.

 

Just as he feels like he may explode, his phone buzzes from where he’s stashed it under his pillow. He tries to ignore it at first, but it keeps making incessant noise so he finally caves in and uses his free hand to grab it and open his messages. There’s four, and they’re all from Pete of course. He only left about ten minutes ago, Jesus Christ has he suddenly become the needy one?

 

He thumbs open the first one and then scrolls down. He clutches his dick tighter, feeling his face flush.

 

_i can still smell you_

 

_i wish ud let me watch_

 

_ur thinking about me, aren’t u? u always do_

 

_come on patty boy, u know u wanna tap this_

 

The last one makes him snort, but he still feels hot all over. He’s sweating so much he can feel the sheets soaked through beneath him. He aches to finish himself off, but he thumbs out a reply one-handed first. Because he can never let Pete have the last word. That would encourage him to keep up with this bullshit.

 

_You’re not really my type. Let me jack off in peace._

 

That is most definitely a lie, right there in black and white in front of his nose. But it’s better than telling Pete to keep going. He’s not sure what his endgame is yet, but he’s going to figure it out.

 

_afraid i cant do that. its 2 bad i dont believe u_

 

Patrick huffs in annoyance, plays with the head of his dick as he types out a reply. Is it still creepy if Pete knows he’s touching himself?

 

 _What are you trying to do?_ He settles on, and presses send.

 

_get u off. thought that was obvious_

 

Patrick lets out a breathy laugh, and decides this will be his last answer for now. Mainly because he’s getting desperate and he can feel his dick swelling and fit to burst.

 

_You’re not doing a very good job. Try harder._

 

When Pete replies this time, it’s with a paragraph. Five minutes have passed, and Patrick is so close to the edge he can taste it. He’s going to pop his first knot.

 

_u shoulda let me stay. id be real good to u, baby. i wanna make u scream. i would ride u. even let u cum inside me. i bet ud like that. i wanna hear how u sound when u cum. im sure its the prettiest thing ever. im trying to picture it, sitting on ur cock. letting you stretch me open and listen to u cry out for god or me. u wouldnt be able to tell the difference. ur face would be all pink and ur mouth red and id look into those riptide eyes and id kiss u. sometimes i swear i dreamt you up. too perfect and pure for someone like me._

 

Patrick gasps, the phone slipping from his hand as his eyes roll back into his head and his body spasms with the force of his orgasm. It’s equal measures of pain and pleasure, leaving him whimpering and biting into his pillow. When the intensity has faded a little, and the aftershocks are going through his body, he looks down.

 

There’s a lot of come pooled on his stomach, and it’s definitely still flowing out of him. His cock hasn’t gone soft. It’s gotten bigger, expanded and stretched. The skin looks taut and purple. It aches so bad he never wants to touch his dick again. From what Patrick has learned at school, it won’t go down for at least a half hour. He wipes off his hand on the bedspread and reaches for his phone to give a shaky response at best.

 

 _That was a little too good. What are you, a sex kitten?_ His heart is racing, still too orgasm hazy (and freaked out by the fact that he’ll have to keep getting himself off for the next couple of days when he’d much rather go to sleep and never look at his dick again) to decipher what any of this means.

 

 _unfortunately no. maybe more of a nympho. did u cum? how was it? i’ve always wondered what its like to be an alpha. no need to thank me, btw. ur my trueblue for life, ricky._ Patrick elects to ignore that last part because it makes him feel warm in a totally different way. He won't say the word butterflies, not if you fucking paid him.

 

_It kinda hurt. Think that’s the hardest I’ve ever come in my life though. Don’t get a big ego about it. You’re not a nympho, unless you’ve got a vagina you haven’t told me about._

 

_good 2 know i do it for u. semantics. ive got a dick. u want me to prove it?_

 

Patrick hits the back of his head against the wall and groans in frustration. He set himself up for that one. Can Pete ever give him a fucking break?

 

_Please don’t. I’d rather you fuck off._

 

_u cant see my face rn but im pouting :( whatever. ill just go jerk it thinking about u. happy bday my 1 tru luv. i miss u._

 

Patrick doesn’t deign that with a response, just turns his head and screams into his pillow. Eventually, when his throat hurts and the come is getting tacky on his stomach, he gets up to clean himself off before the next round starts. He should probably also eat his breakfast, even though it’s cold by now.

 

He creeps down the stairs in just his boxers and sticks the plate of pancakes in the microwave. He slathers them in syrup and climbs back up to his room, making sure he locks the door again.

 

Patrick falls into a restless sleep with a full stomach, a half-hard dick, and Pete’s gift left unopened on his desk.

 

Meanwhile, Pete is next door, one sticky hand tracing the lines of his bartskull tattoo and the other pressing his phone against his ear.

 

“Gabey baby! I have fabulous news. You’ll never believe it.” Pete grins up at his ceiling and wishes upon the glow in the dark star stickers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhh sorry this chapter is so short but i hope the porn makes up for it???? title is from where did the party go, because what else would i name it after lol. comments and kudos make my world go round <3 u can find me on tumblr @ gothicpete :)
> 
> p.s i refrained from an i’m like a lawyer joke. be proud of me.


	4. i'm not playing this game no more

“Oh, darling. You must’ve done something even _I_ wouldn’t do.” Gabe laughs down the line.

 

“I may have tried to seduce Patrick. Twice.” Tried is a relative term when he knows Patrick most definitely got off. Pete wants to reap the benefits of actually getting to touch him next time he does.

 

“Ah, I remember him! He’s yummy,” Gabe pauses. “Wasn’t he sixteen the last time I saw him?” Gabe asks, sounding mock-scandalized. He isn’t surprised in the least by Pete’s antics.

 

“He turned eighteen today.” Pete feels the need to defend himself, but he’s grimacing as he waits for Gabe’s response.

 

“Mmm. Still a kid. Isn’t he a beta? I didn’t think that was your type. If it was I would’ve most definitely slept with you.” Gabe teases. Pete knows how much truth lies within that statement. But Gabe and him are far too alike to ever date. Sex is a whole other ball game.

 

“Actually, he found out he was an Alpha. He’s in rut right now. It was my lucky day.” Pete chuckles.

 

“I didn’t know Patrick was that kind of boy. Way to get him when he’s vulnerable. Wait - did you like...take his virginity? Even I wouldn’t stoop that low. Unless you’re in love with the kid.” Gabe sounds uncertain and almost….defensive over a boy he’s only met a handful of times. It makes Pete smile, when his friends from college care so much about his best friend. Gabe is an anomaly.

 

“I didn’t touch him. I offered, but he said no. Repeatedly. Until I texted him all the dirty things I wanted him to do to me.” Pete preens, incredibly pleased with himself.

 

“So you’re _not_ in love with him.” Gabe says dubiously.

 

“Why would you think that?” Pete scoffs. The lie rolls off his tongue easily. He’s become good at hiding his feelings in plain sight. No one takes him seriously, even when he tells the truth. Unfortunately, Gabe doesn’t seem fooled.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve been friends since the beginning of time and you never shut the fuck up about him. Like, how his mouth is to die for and his thighs are unreal. I even distinctly remember you saying his voice was like honey. Am I wrong?” Pete can tell Gabe is pursing his lips all the way from here.

 

“Honeyed-silk, Gabriel. Get it right. God, it’s like you don’t know me at all.” Pete huffs, deflecting. But it’s too late already. He’s been caught out.

 

“Sex between friends doesn’t work, man. I know that better than anyone. You better be careful with him.” Gabe does his best at trying to sound stern. Pete doesn’t buy it for one second.

 

“I’ll take that as you giving me your blessing to fuck his brains out. Thanks, G. I gotta go. Love you, bye!” Pete rushes to say, his finger already on the end button.

 

“I’m coming to visit you soon. You best be ready. You’ll never know when the Cobra is gonna strike.” Gabe hisses, like he’s actually a fucking snake.

 

“I hate you. A man has _one dream_ about a talking Cobra in a desert and suddenly it’s your persona. Fucking weirdo.” Pete rolls his eyes.

 

“You’re forgetting the starship in space part, bro. It was more of an acid trip than a dream. Either way, it made me wanna learn the power of dance.” Gabe sounds far too serious about this for comfort.

 

“Whatever you say. Bye, Papi.” He finally hangs up when Gabe starts laughing hysterically in his ear.

 

xxx

 

Patrick wakes up on Monday morning feeling like a zombie. His weekend was full of orgasms that became more painful than pleasurable, restless sleep, and weird texts from Pete at random hours of the night.

 

His entire body aches and he’s covered in sweat and come. It’s probably the worst birthday he’s ever had and his party was rescheduled for the following weekend. It’s like his life has turned upside down in the last few days. Maybe he’s entered some sort of hell dimension.

 

He groans, rolling over to shut off his alarm and force himself up into a sitting position before he can fall asleep again and miss first period. He is so not a morning person. He gingerly climbs out of bed, hastily picks out something to wear, and gets into the shower to scrub away the filth.

 

Once he’s fully dressed and he’s managed to make his wet hair look decent, he slides a hat over his head and pulls down the brim. He laces up his combat boots and puts his glasses on before running down the stairs with his backpack.

 

His mom is looking at him in that strange, knowing way that makes him want to run in the opposite direction. He greets her and says good morning, but refuses to acknowledge the elephant in the room. More like elephants, plural. A herd of zoo animals, really.

 

Patrick shovels cereal into his mouth and gets up from the table with milk dripping down his chin. He quickly wipes it off on the sleeve of his jean jacket and makes his way to the front door. He’s greeted by the very unwelcome surprise of Pete’s face. Yet again.

 

Lately Patrick wishes he was still at college. His stalkerish tendencies are back in full swing. He might be in love with the guy, but the predatory attitude he’s exhibiting is starting to freak Patrick out.

 

Of course, seeing Pete after all the dirty messages from Saturday, means Patrick blushes profusely and avoids eye contact at all costs. However, this doesn’t stop him from taking in the rest of him. Bright orange hoodie, black skinny jeans and blood red sneakers. Tame for Pete’s usual eclectic taste. It doesn’t matter what he’s wearing, he always looks unfairly sexy. It’s terribly distracting.

 

“Hi, Pattycakes. I’m here to drive you to school.” Pete says, and Patrick takes a step back, gaping at him and clutching at the strap of his backpack tightly. Pete is beaming, like the cat who got the canary.

 

Patrick can sense his mother standing behind them, watching. Listening. He sees Pete make a gesture at her over Patrick’s shoulder and suddenly he’s furious.

 

“You have a lot of nerve,” Patrick growls. “I’m gonna walk to school.” He shoves past Pete in the doorway, thinks he’s home free until he feels Pete pull him back by the collar and slam him against the front door. He stays quiet, in fear of the fact his mother may still be listening from the other side. Nosy bitch. Patrick knows what’s best for him, and Pete acting like he owns him sure as hell isn’t it.

 

“Don’t be like that, baby. It wasn’t a suggestion. Growing boys like you need to be on time. Stay in school, don’t do drugs.” Pete chuckles, his breath fanning across Patrick’s face and his hands clutching Patrick’s biceps tightly. He really hates when Pete treats him like a little kid.

 

“Stop trying to molest me and maybe I’d be on time. I’ll walk. I could use the exercise, anyway.” Patrick replies. It’s the shittiest comeback he’s ever uttered, but he’s distracted by that intoxicating smell emanating from Pete. He manages to squirm his way out of Pete’s grip and duck under his arm.

 

Everything between them feels wrong today. Tense, but electric. It’s everything Patrick was afraid of. They’ve had their share of arguments, but this feels like something they’ll never compromise on. Pete is dead set on making his life a living hell no matter what.

 

The thing is, Patrick knows he always has a choice. He could avoid Pete like the plague until he gets the message and fucks off for good. But that isn’t what he wants. He’s known Pete since the beginning of his life, and he’s not sure he could fill that void with someone else’s company.

 

He’s not the type of person that’s replaceable. But Patrick is so fucking tired of being Pete’s second choice. There’s always another girl or boy that Pete’s dragging around on his arm every week. It’s not healthy to just sit there and take it. He thinks it’s time he fought fire with fire. After all, no one loves revenge quite like Pete Wentz does.

 

Patrick doesn’t think his heart will ever belong to someone else, but he can pretend. He’s gonna fake it so well it’s gonna make Pete lose it. And he has just the right person in mind to push his buttons.

 

xxx

 

Patrick spends the day zoning out and doodling. He sits down at lunch with Andy and Joe and contemplates what his first move is in Operation: Make Pete Jealous.

 

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had.” Andy says sagely, while stabbing at the wilted lettuce provided by the school cafeteria. Patrick scowls, opens his mouth to defend himself, but Joe decides this is the perfect moment to interject.

 

“So you’d rather be passive aggressive then tell him you’re in love with him. Whatever, man. If that’s your story.” Joe sounds far too serene for a Monday before noon. Patrick assumes he must be baked.

 

“He deserves it! He’s constantly putting me through emotional turmoil.” Patrick shrieks, nearly knocking over his milk.

 

“Most of which he doesn’t do on purpose because you never tell him when he hurts your feelings.” Andy reasons. Goddamn him and his stupid logic.

 

“That’s not fair.” Patrick pouts. “It’s not like he ever listens to me anyway.”

 

“You really underestimate him. He hangs on every word you say, Trick. Just talk to him. Like a normal person.” Andy sighs.

 

“But what’s the fun in that?” Joe grins. Patrick squeezes his shoulder in thanks.

 

“See? Joe agrees with me. At the very least, it’ll be prime entertainment.” Patrick giggles.

 

“It’s your life, dude. I don’t wanna have to say I told you so later, but you know I will.” Andy replies, rolling his eyes.

 

“What’s stopping you from telling Pete about my plan?” Patrick asks, narrowing his gaze. Andy was Pete’s friend first. He isn’t sure where his loyalty lies.

“Nothing. But I’m here to listen, not meddle. It isn’t my fault if you don’t take my advice.” Andy snorts.

 

“Hey, how come your party was canceled?” Joe asks, promptly changing the subject.

 

“I presented as an Alpha.” Patrick grumbles, looking down at the table top.

 

“Jesus fuck, now I know why Pete is so intent on jumping your bones. Not that he wasn’t before. But this makes things so much worse.” Andy groans, holding his head in his hands.

 

“Good luck, buddy.” Joe tries to soothe him by rubbing his back, but mostly Patrick feels like he’s being petted.

 

“Who did you have in mind for this operation?” Andy inquires, sounding exasperated. This is the part Patrick is uncertain about.

 

“Gabe Saporta.” Patrick squeaks. Andy’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. Joe chokes on his food.

 

“You do realize he’s Pete’s friend, right? He’s not even in town right now.” Andy is incredibly unimpressed.

 

“Are you crazy, bro?” Joe says, bewildered.

 

“I’ll give him a call. I’m far more persuasive than you give me credit for.” Patrick nods to himself. He’s totally got this.

 

“I’d like to remind you that he’s basically Pete’s evil twin.” Andy sounds pissed now, arms crossed over his chest and his hair falling in his eyes.

 

“He’s not _evil._ He’s just kind of….wild. But you know if anyone is down to fuck with Pete, it’s him.” Patrick huffs.

 

“Literally or figuratively?” Joe laughs. Patrick gives him his best death glare.

 

“I’d describe him as devious, if nothing else.” Andy grumbles.

 

“Shut the fuck up. He’s nice, I swear. He’s just looking for a good time.” Patrick waves his hand, seemingly unconcerned. It’s not like Gabe has even agreed to it yet.

 

“If by good time you mean he’s looking for somebody to screw, then yes.” Joe smirks. Patrick punches him in the arm, even if he’s most definitely right.

 

xxx

 

Patrick makes the call. Gabe is never that hard to convince.

 

“I’m in. But if this blows up in your face, don’t blame me. I’m just trying to help, you know?” Gabe’s voice sounds warm and inviting. Then again, it always does.

 

“I find it hard to believe you’re siding with me over Pete.” Patrick laughs.

 

“Well. You’re cute. And...I think Pete could use a taste of his own medicine. I love that man but he’s got a lot of issues. We all do.” Gabe suddenly sounds much older and wiser than he actually is. Patrick is absolutely sure he’s in an alternate universe at this point.

 

“When are you coming to town?” Patrick asks.

 

“How’s this weekend sound? Just in time for your party.” Gabe sounds excited. Patrick grimaces at the idea of Pete and Gabe being around his mother at the same time.

 

“Sounds great. Where are you staying when you get here?”

 

“That’s the thing. I’m staying with Pete. But don’t worry. I can make this work. Papi’s got you, babe.” Gabe chuckles down the line. Patrick has a feeling he’s gonna have to resist the urge to strangle him just as much as he does with Pete.

 

“Never call yourself that again, please.” Patrick groans.

 

“Sorry, honey. No can do. Take me for what I am.” Patrick can picture the wolfish smile on his face all the way from here.

 

“Whatever. Just text me when you’ll be here. And behave.” Patrick instructs, trying to sound firm.

 

“No promises, sugar.” Patrick rolls his eyes and hangs up. He’s trying to remember why he ever thought involving Gabe Saporta in his first and only scheme was plausible. This is definitely gonna come back to bite him in the ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole squad is finally here!!! the amount of times i typed gabe's name in this chapter is probably illegal. id say im sorry but im really not because i love him and hes incredibly fun to write. mostly he's here because self indulgence and plot purposes but....i hope you enjoy him as much as i do. chapter title is from the scene is dead; long live the scene by cobra. i promise the stumporta is just fake dating. don't be ~too~ concerned about the angst. please leave a comment, they make my day! come talk to me on tumblr @ gothicpete :)
> 
> p.s. sorry this update took a while my birthday was this month so i was Busy™️ but i got tickets to the mania tour and it’s???? a dream come true!!!!


	5. you know i could crush you with my voice

If breaking hearts was illegal, Pete Wentz would be the worst criminal of them all. Unfortunately, that isn’t the way the world works. It would be different, if he had physically hurt Patrick, or any of those other girls or boys. But he never does. He is pretty words and empty promises. He rips hearts out of chests and crushes them with his bare hands. He doesn’t flinch. He is stoic, he is selfish. Only caring for himself.

 

He is a disaster boy. He wears a mask, picture perfect casanova with snake eyes no one ever sees. Not until it’s too late. No one heeds the tales about him from the ghosts of his past victims. It’s too bad the damage he does is invisible. The justice system, with all its flaws, cannot touch him. He cannot be hurt by the law, or seemingly anything but himself. But he does not leave marks on the people he touches. He leaves scars, but they are unseeable. Irreparable.

 

Patrick thinks it’s a cruel joke, how no one knows you are suffering until you have a breakdown, until you try to hurt yourself or someone else. Pete causes emotional damage wherever he goes. And the worst, most stupid, ironic part of it all is he doesn’t know. And if he does: he doesn’t care. Patrick isn’t sure which one is worse.

 

Patrick wants to teach him a lesson. He wants to show him what it’s like, to be hurt by someone else. To feel torn up inside and not have the person who caused it even realize. He wants Pete to burn. Vengeance is a terrible, powerful force to be reckoned with. Patrick is going to be his storm. His wildfire. His worst nightmare and his best fantasy.

 

xxx

 

Gabe strolls into Patrick’s backyard with a spring in his step. Pete is attached to his back, legs around Gabe’s hips and arms wrapped tight around his neck. Patrick suddenly wishes Pete would tighten his grip and steal the air from Gabe’s lungs. He’s angry. He’s angrier than he’s ever been and it’s time someone pay the price. He scowls at Gabe, but he can’t say anything, can’t give away his plan.

 

Andy and Joe are sitting underneath the big maple tree a few feet away, wrestling and laughing. Carefree and easy. Not paying attention to the rage bubbling underneath Patrick’s skin. That’s probably for the best. There’s a picnic table out here set up with pizza and snacks. His cake lies in wait, somewhere inside. He thinks his mother must be making the finishing touches to it. He briefly considers shoving Pete’s face into it.

 

Finally, Pete climbs off Gabe’s body, as if he’s a human ladder. Pete leers at him, goes to open his mouth, but Gabe interrupts him and suddenly Patrick is flooded with gratitude.

 

“Come give Papi a hug. You’re prettier than I remember.” Gabe beams, and suddenly Patrick’s face is being shoved into Gabe’s abdomen. He leans down in order to whisper into Patrick’s ear.

 

“We’ve gotta make this look organic. Take it slow, alright? Just follow my lead.” His voice is low and reassuring. Patrick pulls back, pats Gabe’s chest, and smiles up at him in greeting. He peeks under Gabe’s arm and feels a shiver run down his spine at the look on Pete’s face. Oh, if looks could kill.

 

“Hello, boys. Thanks for coming.” Patrick finally speaks, a smirk firmly planted on his face as Pete frowns and his eyebrows draw together in annoyance.

 

Patrick wanders over to Joe and Andy, hands them each a slice of pizza, and sits in the grass with them. He isn’t really listening to their conversation, just nodding and humming in the appropriate places as he keeps his eyes on Pete and Gabe.

 

Pete has his arms crossed over his chest, his defensive pose. The one where he barks at you like an angry puppy and acts like he has all the control. But that’s a lie. He’s upset. He’s a puppy with his tail between his legs. That’s the way he’s always been. Feeling sorry for himself but never anyone else.

 

Gabe is still smiling down at him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Gabe is good at talking Pete down. He’s the only other person who can, besides Patrick. And Pete’s mom. This charade has barely started and already Patrick feels lighter. He knows it’s going to overflow as soon as Pete finds out about him and Gabe. The sense of betrayal and his narcissistic complex will overtake him.  

 

He’ll write a song about wanting to bury Gabe six feet under. He’ll probably punch him. He might even go home and break something just so he doesn’t break himself instead. He’ll come to Patrick, confused and raging, and he won’t say anything at all. He’ll let Pete have all the words, like he always does, until he tires himself out. Until he’s filled with sorrow and quiet.

 

Then, Patrick will lie. He’ll make an excuse. He’ll keep up the act. He’ll spend time with Gabe. And for his part, Gabe will talk about him constantly. He’ll spend his nights at Patrick’s house, crawling in through his window. And then he’ll do the walk of shame back to Pete’s house until he gets kicked out and shipped off back to college. It’ll get the job done.

 

It will do what Patrick craves to do. To turn Pete inside out. Patrick knows him too well. He can predict his next move, and everything that comes after that. It’s only for a few weeks. And then it will be over. Things will go back to normal. At least Patrick hopes they will. He also hopes Pete will realize what this is all for. That it’ll get better between them.

 

Andy elbows him in the side and he almost inhales his pizza and chokes on it. He hits himself in the chest with his fist a couple of times and turns to glare at him.

 

Andy’s eyes are full of mirth. “You’re staring.” He says, quietly, as if it’s a secret. It’s not. He knows he is. Pete is looking back now. Gabe turns and looks at him too.

 

Patrick wipes his greasy fingers on his jeans and stands up.

 

“Can one of you keep watch on the door and let me know when my mom comes out with the cake?” Patrick asks, distracted as Gabe makes his way over and Pete heads for the tree to settle beside Joe and Andy, dead set on pretending he isn’t intently eavesdropping.

 

Patrick takes a few steps back, leans on the fence and lets Gabe cage him in with his arms. Andy rolls his eyes, but nods. Joe is engaged in a conversation with Pete and his hands are gesticulating wildly. Patrick is feeling bold, knowing Pete’s eyes are still on him.

 

He takes in Gabe’s outfit, listens to his cheesy lines and flutters his eyelashes. Keeps his face coy and smitten. He’s wearing a bright purple hoodie, snapback black and gold, sideways on his head. His studded belt is lopsided on his waist and his skinny jeans are a faded gray. He’s wearing a pair of neon green high tops. His mother would most definitely not approve. He doesn’t care.

 

Patrick grabs one of the strings on Gabe’s hoodie and reels him in close. Even from here, he can picture Pete’s eyes blazing, can hear his sharp intake of breath. Gabe laughs, surprised, and his hot breath washes over Patrick’s face, minty and sweet.

 

He doesn’t kiss him, because that’s too much too soon. Not believable. He doesn’t want to seem too easy, he’s not just another boy on the list of Gabe Saporta’s conquests. He never will be.

 

Gabe leans down, wraps his arms around Patrick and whispers nonsense in his ear. Patrick giggles, feels hazy on the drug that is power. He plants a hand on the back of Gabe’s neck and twists his fingers through his hair because he can. Gabe is pressed up against his front, warm and solid and holding him close.

 

Hiding him away from the rest of the world. Everyone but Pete. Patrick doesn’t dare check, but he knows Pete is still watching. He can feel the electric shock of it in his bones. He’s brought out of his euphoria by Andy flicking him in the ankle a few times. His mother must be coming with his birthday cake.

 

Patrick doesn’t want to leave this warm, safe bubble where everything feels good and all of Pete’s attention is on him. But he pushes Gabe back with two hands on his chest and makes sure there’s a respectable distance between them. Introducing Gabe to his mom will be bad enough.

 

She smiles, sets the cake down on the table and everyone gathers around to embarrass him by singing happy birthday. He’s blushing by the end of it, knows Pete isn’t singing along obnoxiously the way he usually would, and takes a sick pleasure in the fact. He blows out the candles and his mom starts cutting pieces to hand out.

 

Gabe slings one arm around Patrick’s shoulders and sticks out his other hand for Patricia Stump to shake. His mother gives him a pointed look, but shakes Gabe’s hand and acts cordial nonetheless. Gabe is weirdly charming and normal sounding. Calm, even. Unlike Pete who is standing next to Andy, rocking back and forth on his heels and forcing a smile so hard he looks a bit manic. The hand that’s holding his plate is shaking so much he might actually drop it.

The party is weirdly uneventful until the end, where Pete looks like he’s going to jump out of his skin and everyone starts handing him their gifts. Gabe hands him a necklace, a golden cobra charm on a chain. He mockingly blows him a kiss and Patrick refrains from rolling his eyes.

 

He puts the necklace on just to see Pete squirm. Andy gives him a few comic books. Joe hands him a mixtape, with a cryptic “Friendship never ends.” Patrick assumes that means the tape mainly contains Joe’s secret Spice Girls shame. Luckily, they both can appreciate the band. As long as no one else knows.

 

His mother comes back outside with two gifts, one of which he recognizes. It’s the one that Pete gave him. He left it upstairs on his desk, unopened. He completely forgot about it. Well, that’s not strictly true. He’s been avoiding it, just like Pete. It feels like it’s the only remaining thing left of their friendship before all this started. A relic from a past self that Patrick no longer wants to be.

 

He opens his mom’s gift first, because it’s easier. There’s a few things in the package. Band t-shirts, new Converse, a couple of records he wanted. Patrick smiles, hugs her tight and thanks her with a kiss on the cheek. When they pull apart, she hands him Pete’s gift.

 

The box is pretty small, but it’s neatly wrapped. Patrick assumes this means Pete’s mom did it. He slides his finger under the bow and breaks the ribbon. He pulls at the paper with shaking hands and opens the box.

 

There’s a guitar pick inside. It looks custom made, dark blue with Patrick’s initials carved into it. The back reads: **_TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE._ **

 

At the bottom of the box lies a notecard, Pete’s handwriting spiky and disjointed like blood spatter.

 

_i believe in you. make me proud, patty. take all your possibilities and throw away the limits._

_-_ _peterpan xoxo_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhh. the inner monologue in the beginning got super angry and intense but i thought it was okay for a teenage patrick to feel that way. especially about a pete in his early 20's. (this is probably due to me reading gray and kind of absorbing pete's style in the hopes it'd make this more authentic). no harm meant to pete's actual character irl, obviously he's much different now and i wouldn't be writing stories about him if i didn't love him. also, as you can see, the band will come to exist in this verse. obviously different from canon, but we've got a lot of references here. hope you enjoy it. come yell at me on tumblr @gothicpete :) chapter title is from the pros and cons of breathing.


	6. i keep my jealousy close 'cause it's all mine

Patrick hasn’t spoken to Pete much since the party. He’s flattered if anything by the gift, but also incredibly confused as to what it means. Is Pete encouraging him to pursue a career in music? Patrick doesn’t think he could ever do that. His stage fright is too horrible, all consuming. He’s not the type of person who’s meant to be in the spotlight. 

 

Despite everything, the plan continues in full swing. Patrick is sharing a booth with Gabe pressed against his side, sitting in the local diner Pete used to haunt on the nights he couldn’t sleep. If Patrick knows him well enough, Pete should be walking through the door any minute for a big basket of french fries and a puddle of barbeque sauce that makes Patrick want to vomit. 

 

Gabe has an arm slung around Patrick’s shoulders, and there’s a strawberry milkshake sitting between them on the table, collecting condensation with two straws in it. 

 

“You don’t think this is a little much?” Patrick asks, raising his eyebrows in trepidation. 

 

“Nothing is ever too much for me, baby.” Gabe laughs, booping Patrick on the nose. Patrick almost punches him in the face, it’s a near thing. Before he can properly reprimand Gabe, the bell above the door dings and it seems like the music coming from over the speakers gets quieter, duller. 

 

Pete looks like a force to be reckoned with. His mouth is a harsh line, day old eyeliner ringed around his eyes and his hair greasy. He probably hasn’t been sleeping at all. Patrick feels a pang of sympathy, before he remembers what he’s here for. Pete walks over to the counter without a backward glance, orders the usual, and drops himself into the booth across from them, silently seething. 

 

“What are you two doing here? Got any good gossip?” Pete asks, fake cheer and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He stuffs a handful of fries in his mouth and chews petulantly. Patrick didn’t even know that was possible. 

 

“I offered to treat Patrick in the hopes a milkshake was a good enough bribe to get him to go out with me.” Gabe teases, nudging Patrick in the side. Pete’s entire body seems to stiffen, closing in on himself as he jabs a french fry at Gabe accusingly.

 

“I’m sorry, I must’ve heard that wrong. You’re joking, right? Trick, tell me this is a joke.” Pete’s voice is strained, his free hand clenched into a fist on the table. His eyes betray his composure, full of a wild, manic anger and a desperation that cannot be squashed. 

 

Patrick has the urge to force him to submit, to behave. Like a good Omega should. He’s never felt that instinct before. He fights against it, because right now isn’t the time. 

 

“Of course it’s not. Gabe is awfully handsome  _ and _ charming. Look at that face! I just couldn’t say no.” Patrick grins, thrilled with how off balance Pete looks. 

 

“Guilty as charged.” Gabe simpers, resting his chin on Patrick’s shoulder and fluttering his eyelashes at Pete. He’s smirking, like it’s a challenge.  _ Say something. I dare you.  _

 

Pete shoves the hood off his head, his hair sticking up in every direction and he’s biting his lip so hard he’s practically drawing blood. He seems to make a decision, then promptly kicks Gabe in the shin as hard as he can. 

 

Gabe howls, clutching at his unfairly long leg and gritting his teeth through the pain. Pete smiles, if only satisfied with his handiwork for a moment. Patrick places a hand on Gabe’s thigh, trying to comfort him, and whispers something in his ear for the reaction he’s looking for. 

 

Pete makes a face like he’s sucked on a lemon, then promptly seems to slide down in the booth in defeat. He looks incredibly small and pathetic. Patrick grabs Gabe’s hand and puts them on the table in plain sight. Pete glares openly at this as Gabe seems to collect himself, running a hand through his hair. Patrick leans forward to take a sip of the milkshake. 

 

“That wasn’t very nice, Petey.” Gabe tries to laugh it off, but Pete won’t seem to let up. 

 

“Neither is you fucking my best friend. You’re such a hypocrite.” Pete spits, leaning forwards and planting his elbows on the table. Patrick glances between the two of them, and Gabe actually looks upset now. That can’t possibly be good. 

 

“What is he talking about?” Patrick turns to Gabe and asks, his voice low and full of confusion. 

 

“It’s nothing.” Gabe smiles, big and empty with tension rolling off him in waves. Patrick needs to interject before this gets bad. He didn’t contemplate the fact he could ruin Gabe and Pete’s friendship in the process of all this. He’s starting to think he’s made a mistake. It’s time to change the subject.

 

“Hey Gabe, why don’t you tell me more about your band?” Patrick interjects, his voice stilted with desperation to diffuse the situation. Pete rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat, swirling a french fry through the barbeque sauce. 

 

“You’ve gotta come to a show soon, you’d love it!  I’m our lead singer, bassist, and lyricist. Someone’s gotta do it, right?” Gabe says jovially. 

 

“I didn’t know you could sing. That sounds great. It’s a date.” Patrick says pointedly, eyes never leaving Pete’s face.

 

Pete stands so fast the table shudders, and he leans until him and Gabe are nose to nose. 

 

“This isn’t over.” Pete hisses, and then he’s taking what’s left of his french fries and dumping them over Gabe’s head. Patrick stares after him, mouth wide open as Pete storms out of the diner with a flourish and a middle finger high in the air. He’s pretty sure the old lady at the counter saw that. Pete might not be allowed back here for a while.

 

Patrick feels really bad. Mainly for Gabe, but not for Pete. He thinks Pete is getting what he deserves. And Patrick is so thrilled his plan is actually working to begin with. 

 

Patrick follows Gabe to the bathroom and tries to help him get all the salt out of his hair. The barbeque sauce is a lost cause until he can take a shower. 

 

“I am so sorry.” Patrick apologizes, but he can barely contain the laughter that’s making him shake. 

 

“It’s fine. Pete is a drama queen. I’m used to it. I’m sure he’s gonna wanna talk to me. I can’t exactly avoid him when I’m staying at his house.” Gabe sighs, washing his hands and drying them off on his jeans. 

 

“You’re welcome to stay at mine if he kicks you to the curb.” Patrick reassures. 

 

“At this rate, he might. It’s okay though. Riling him up is the fun part.” Gabe beams down at him. 

 

“He’s only gonna get worse from here.” Patrick warns.

 

“Believe me, I know. I’m surprised he hasn’t pissed on you to mark his territory or something.” Gabe says it nonchalantly, like it doesn’t mean anything.

 

“What are you saying? I thought he only wanted me for sex.” Patrick mumbles, mostly to himself. They make their way out of the diner and into the sunlight of the afternoon.

 

“Come on, Patrick. He’s been in love with you since before he knew you were an Alpha.” Gabe tilts his head at him, in complete disbelief. 

 

“No. Absolutely not. If he were in love with me I would know.” Patrick snorts, his mind reeling with the possibility. 

 

“Fine. Don’t believe me. I’m sure he’d want me double dead if he knew I told you how he felt.” Gabe groans.

 

He opens the passenger side door of his car for Patrick before getting in the driver’s side and starting it. The engine roars to life and Patrick turns the volume on the radio down. 

 

“You’re telling me that we’re in love with each other. But we’re both too stupid to confess.” Patrick replies flatly. 

 

“Exactly. I’m surrounded by idiots. But I can never pass up an opportunity to piss Pete off.” Gabe cackles.

 

“If he’s in love with me then why doesn’t he tell me? Why doesn’t he do something about it? Why is he sleeping with anything that moves?” Patrick has so many questions. 

 

“He doesn’t think you love him back. Rejection is scary, man. It’s probably easier for him to sleep with other people and try to ignore his feelings for you. But this whole scheme of yours is bringing everything to the surface.” Gabe sighs. 

 

“I’m glad the plan is working. I just think my end goal has become different.” Patrick purses his lips, considering. 

 

“What do you want to get out of this?” Gabe asks.

 

“I want to get him to admit he’s in love with me.” Patrick says, determined. 

 

“Or you could just tell him that you’re in love with him.” Gabe suggests. Patrick shakes his head vehemently. 

 

“No. Then he’ll know I lied about dating you to make him jealous. I will  _ never  _ live that down.” Patrick grumbles. 

 

“You just wanna make him so insanely jealous until he snaps and tells you he wants to have your babies?” Gabe’s laugh takes a turn for the hysterical. “You two are fucking crazy, and that’s coming from  _ me.” _

 

“That’s exactly what I want to do. Are you in or are you out?” Patrick turns the volume back up on the radio. 

 

“I’m in. Even if Pete tries to murder me, it’ll be worth it, right? True love and all that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so fucking long. i originally wrote a completely different chapter that im gonna save for later. so i wrote this one today and had my friend beta it for me for any mistakes/suggestions etc. therefore my updating might be slower but the quality of this fic should be better!! thank u for reading. kudos and comments always appreciated. come stalk me or talk about fob @gothicpete on tumblr. love y'all xoxo


	7. give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention

“Two can play at this game, Saporta. You should really know better than to fuck with me.” Pete growls, refraining from slamming his fist into the wall next to the bathroom door. Gabe walks in front of him, hair still wet from the shower and an incredibly fake scorned look.

 

“I have _no_ __idea what you’re talking about, dude.” Gabe isn’t good at pretending to be innocent. He’d even say he looks downright gleeful. Pete inhales sharply.

 

“You’re trying to get into my best friends pants.” Pete grits out.

 

“So are you.” Gabe retorts.

 

“That’s different. He’s mine.” Pete jabs Gabe in the chest threateningly. Gabe smiles down at him, chuffed.

 

“Patrick is his own person, he doesn’t have _Property of Pete Wentz_ tattooed above his ass, does he?” Gabe scoffs.

 

“Last I checked, no. That doesn’t matter. He was my best friend first. Back the fuck off.” Pete grunts.

 

“Touchy, touchy.” Gabe tsks. “He’s awfully pretty, you know? Can’t blame me for snatching him up because you won’t tell him how you really feel.”

 

“Shut up. I’m not in love with him. Don’t make me kick your ass.” Pete fumes, taking a step forwards and glaring up at Gabe.

 

“What would you do if someone else had wanted him? Would you have terrorized them too?” Gabe asks, the look on his face knowing. Pete stays silent.

 

“That’s what I thought. It doesn’t matter who goes after him. You don’t want to keep him but you can’t let him go.” Gabe sighs.

 

“No. It does matter. It hurts more because it’s _you_. I thought you were my friend, asshole.” Pete hisses, all venom and unruly hair.

 

“I am.” Gabe says, hand dramatically clutching his chest as if he’s wounded. Pete shakes his head vehemently.

 

“You’re not my friend. Not anymore. What are you gonna do, take his virginity and rub it in my face?” Pete collapses back onto his bed with the despair of a teenage girl.

 

“Mmm. I dunno. I’ve never fucked an Alpha before. Why does it bother you so much if he wants me back? Don’t you want him to be happy?” Gabe tilts his head, inquiring. Pete raises himself onto his elbows to shoot Gabe a death glare.

 

“Of course I want him to be happy. I just want it to be with me. I swear to god if you touch him I’ll kill you with my bare hands.” Pete threatens.

 

“I’d love to see you try, darling. If you want to be with him, but you aren’t in love with him, what are you offering him? Friends with benefits?” Gabe shakes his head in disappointment.

 

“I don’t know. But it’s us. I wanna give him everything and more. I’d do anything.” Pete groans, rolling his head back against the pillow in sorrow. Gabe fits his long frame into the bed beside Pete, his legs hanging off the end.

 

“Do you think he’d be happy being your dirty little secret while you fuck other people?”

 

“That isn’t what he’d be. Never. I’d show him off. That’s what he deserves. To be praised and cherished.” Pete closes his eyes as if he’s picturing it, hands folded over his chest.

 

“Just admit it. You love him.” Gabe says, poking him in the ribs, a smirk on his face. Pete rolls over and opens his eyes.

 

“Yeah. I really do. So much it scares me.” Pete sighs, biting his lip at the confession.

 

“I knew it.” Gabe grins. Pete squints at him suspiciously.

 

“If you knew then why the fuck did you ask him out? To hurt my feelings on purpose?” Pete huffs.

 

“No. I asked him out because he’s a catch. I just wanted to get you to say you loved him.” Gabe laughs.

 

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t love me back like that. Does he….do you think he might be falling in love with you?” Pete asks, his voice trembling. Gabe hates lying, he really does. But he promised Patrick he’d stick to the plan.

 

“I’m not sure. I hope so.” Gabe settles on a non committal answer. Pete lets out a deep breath.

 

“He seems happy with you. But if you hurt him I’ll break your perfect face.” Pete warns, his voice weak.

 

“You’re allowed to be upset, you know.” Gabe soothes, rubbing Pete’s back.

 

“Trust me, I am. You already know what I’m gonna do.” Pete says regretfully.

 

“You’re gonna be petty and hurt him back, aren’t you? Ugh. I thought I was the one who’s supposed to be an asshole.” Gabe sighs. What is he going to do with these two?

 

“Yeah. You learned from the best, also known as me.” Pete groans.

 

“I expect to see you at my gig then, with an Alpha on your arm that is decidedly not Patrick.” Gabe pretends to gag.

 

“Ding ding ding! You’re smart after all.” Pete chuckles.

 

“You’re just predictable.” Gabe sticks his tongue out at him. Pete pushes him off the bed in retaliation.

 

xxx

 

Patrick shows up to the shitty dive bar not knowing what to expect. When Gabe’s bandmates introduce themselves and hand him a beer, he’s a little overwhelmed but pleasantly surprised. He doesn’t even have to hand over his fake ID to the bartender if they keep handing him free drinks.

 

Victoria, the only Omega of the group, keeps making eyes at him. It makes him a little uncomfortable because he’s not into girls, but presumably she also knows that he’s here with Gabe. Fighting off her advances is going to be a slippery slope tonight.

 

Ryland and Nate are much simpler to handle. Both betas, and both incredibly friendly and willing to talk about music and movies or anything in between. Patrick thinks they could become good friends. By the time he’s finished his second beer he’s a little tipsy and Gabe is about to take the stage.

 

He’s sat near the front, directly in front of the stage, when he sees something that makes him freeze and clutch the beer bottle so tight his fingers go white. He turns his whole body to face the door, where Pete has just walked in with a bunch of his hardcore friends and a pretty, lean scene boy on his arm.

 

Patrick knows he shouldn’t let it get to him, he’s seen this all before. But the boy is beautiful, high cheekbones and long blond hair falling in his eyes. He towers over Pete by a few inches, and he’s clad in head to toe black. Patrick can’t compete with someone that ethereal. It stings to watch Pete smile at someone else the way Patrick thought was reserved for him.

 

Pete makes eye contact with him from across the room and takes this as an invitation to walk over and say hello with his date following right behind.

 

“Uh, hey.” Patrick starts awkwardly. “What are you doing here?” Right to the point.

 

“I’m performing tonight, with the guys from Arma. I thought Mikey here would enjoy it.” Pete grins, all teeth. Patrick slides his hands under his thighs to keep from clenching them into fists.

 

“Great. Hey dude, nice to meet you. I’m Patrick.” He sticks out his hand for a shake but Mikey just looks at him, calculating.

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Glad to put a face to the name.” Mikey replies, his voice full of disdain. Patrick recoils into his seat, his eyebrows furrowing with embarrassment. Has Pete’s type always been bitchy and mean?

 

“Okay. Let’s go take our seats, baby. It’s gonna be one hell of a show.” Pete winks at Patrick, and then he’s gone with a flourish and his hand intertwined with Mikey’s. They sit down at the table to the right of him, barely twenty feet away. It feels like torture to watch Pete flirt. But he’s done it before. Besides, it’s a good thing Pete can see what’s about to happen.

 

The lights go down and Cobra Starship is being welcomed to the stage. Gabe is in front of him suddenly, shining in the spotlight and full of life. He’s got the mic in his hands and his bandmates are lined up beside him. The music starts up, and Patrick is surprised but incredibly impressed.

 

Electronic pop isn’t usually his thing, but this is good. Gabe’s voice is beautiful, smooth and effortless. He owns the stage, all hips and mic tricks. He jumps around, skips, does poses. He points at Patrick and winks, licks his lips seductively and sings his heart out. He’s the most ridiculous person Patrick has ever met, and that’s saying a lot, because he’s known Pete his whole life.

 

The grand finale is the last song of the set, where Gabe ends up on his knees, hair sweaty and flopping in front of his face and singing the words directly to Patrick with his eyes shining.

 

_Before I met you, I used to dream you up and make you up in my mind / and all I ever wanted was to be understood / You’ve been the only one who could, I could never turn my back on you_

 

Gabe, always one for dramatic flair, leans down and grabs Patrick’s face in his hands. He plants a wet, smacking kiss on Patrick’s lips. It lasts a little longer than is publicly appropriate, but Patrick knew it was coming.

 

He smiles into it, because he can’t help it. In another life he’s sure he could fall in love with Gabe. But he knows Pete is watching, and raging. Most definitely not paying any attention to his date.

 

When they pull apart, Gabe thanks the crowd and does a bow before following his bandmates off the stage to help move their equipment.

 

Patrick turns in his seat, stares at Pete who looks at him with something like frustration. Maybe even a touch of sadness. He’s hunched over, ignoring whatever Mikey is saying to him, looking like he wants to go on a rampage.

 

God, he acts like such a toddler. Ready to throw a tantrum because someone else is messing with his favorite toy. Patrick’s having trouble remembering why he’s in love with him when he’s just bringing out the worst quality in him.

 

Gabe comes back to the table, covered in stage sweat and full of exhilaration with a cocktail in his hand. He smiles down at Patrick, caresses his cheekbone gently, and pushes a lock of hair out of Patrick’s eyes before sitting as close to him as possible and tangling their legs together.

 

He’s laying it on thick, and Patrick is having a wonderful night. Too bad it isn’t real.

 

Before Pete can properly throw a fit, Arma Angelus is called onto the stage. He puts the strap of his bass over his head and uses it like armor. He screams out all his anger and heartache into the mic, just like he always does. He is made of it.

 

He is a coward. He can scream the truth in front of a group of strangers, write it down, mark it permanently into his skin with ink. But he can’t say it to Patrick’s face. He can’t give Patrick what he _deserves._ No matter how much he wants to.

 

When he finishes the set, the crowd cheering for him isn’t so gratifying. He’s in his own head too much, and he can’t exactly ask Patrick for help when he’s the problem. Pete is pretty sure Patrick wouldn’t sing him to sleep now, even if he begged.

 

That’s fucked up. They’re supposed to be best friends, aren’t they? Maybe you can’t be best friends with someone who puts you back together when you fall apart. Not when they’re the one who breaks you in the first place.

 

Maybe Pete has already ruined this. What he and Patrick have is so fragile. Electric, crackling with the potential of a car crash. Pete doesn’t stand a chance. He’s a goner, and Patrick is just gone. He’s going to leave Pete, move on with his life and forget all about him.

 

It’s over before it even started. He lets the wave of hopelessness overcome him. He’s giving up. He wants Patrick to be happy. And he’ll never be happy with someone like Pete.

 

He ditches Mikey without a second thought and hitches a ride back home with Andy. He doesn’t even care anymore if Patrick saw. He’s done with this game.

 

All his love is wasted. Toxic, pouring out of him. He is poison. He won’t allow himself to hurt Patrick anymore. He won’t hurt anyone but himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> id say im sorry for the angst but im really not??? leave a comment or come talk to me on tumblr @gothicpete. chapter title is from time to dance by panic :~)


	8. better off as lovers, and not the other way around

“That was my first kiss, you know.” Patrick admits, eyes locked firmly on Gabe’s face as he leans forward.

 

“Really? Holy shit. I hope it was everything you dreamed it would be.” Gabe grins, the lights glinting off his teeth.

 

“It was alright.” Patrick teases, and gets a punch in the arm for his troubles.

 

“Shut the fuck up. You’re one lucky bastard.” Gabe throws his head back and laughs. Patrick isn’t paying attention anymore, a little too drunk and a lot concerned as he sweeps his eyes back and forth through the crowd.

 

“Did Pete leave without Mikey?” Patrick asks, voice full of disbelief.

 

“Dude, he ran out of here like the place was on fire. That’s the name of the Alpha he brought as his date?” Gabe takes a sip of his drink, fiddling with the little umbrella before tucking it behind his ear.

 

“Yeah. You know, the tall, pretty blond man whose incredibly rude.” Patrick makes a sour face.

 

“Clearly not pretty enough if Pete left him at the bar.” Gabe snorts.

 

“Should I be worried about him?” Patrick groans, letting his head fall into his hands. Gabe nudges their knees together.

 

“Don’t sweat it. Pete is always giving you reasons to be worried. Just let him cool off.” Gabe reassures.

 

“Right. Guess we’re taking a cab home tonight. I’m sure Pete’s locked his door, so you’re staying with me.” Patrick untangles himself from Gabe and stands. Gabe downs the rest of his drink and takes the tiny pink umbrella from behind his own ear to stick it behind Patrick’s.

 

Patrick rolls his eyes at him fondly, and attempts to drag him out of the bar by the wrist. They stop several times on their way out to say goodbye to his bandmates, and a stray fan or two. Victoria gives him a hug that’s too close for comfort and he’s going to smell like her sickly sweet perfume for the rest of the night.

 

Patrick leans his head on Gabe’s shoulder during the cab ride in the hopes it’ll make his worries subside. Mostly it makes him sleepy, because Gabe is practically a furnace. Worrying about Pete is basically his fucking job. He doesn’t know how to do anything else.

 

xxx

 

Patrick has one final idea before Gabe heads back to Depaul. It’s the last weekend before he leaves town, and Patrick offered to host his band’s practice in his basement. Gabe has been staying with him for the past few days anyway, it’s just convenient. His mother doesn’t mind because she’s used to all the noise Patrick makes on his drum kit, among the other instruments propped around the room.

 

Patrick sends Pete a text to come over. Even though they haven’t spoken in a week, it’s worth a shot. When they fight, Pete is usually the first one to come crawling back and apologize.

 

Saturday afternoon finds the entirety of Cobra Starship practicing in his basement. Everyone but Gabe, actually. Gabe is slacking by sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling while talking to Patrick about God knows what. But Patrick is mostly okay with it because this is all part of the last stage of the plan.

 

Patrick isn’t sure when Pete will show up, if at all, so he just climbs into Gabe’s lap and gets comfortable.

 

“Well hello there.” Gabe drawls, smirking at him. Patrick scoffs, scooting closer with his thighs on either side of Gabe’s hips.

 

“You’re enjoying this far too much.” Patrick bites his lower lip in contemplation, deciding to put his arms around Gabe’s neck and twist his fingers through his hair.

 

“You can’t really blame me.” Gabe chuckles, licking his lips and putting his hands on Patrick’s hips. “You’ve got these cute little love handles.” Gabe teases. Patrick is so tempted to knee him in the balls right now.

 

“Cut it out.” Patrick gets out, a strained smile on his face. He’s pretty sure his face is bright red right now as Nate and Ryland continue to bicker behind them. Patrick is positive Victoria is staring at them, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look.

 

“C’mon. It’s gotta look natural. My hands could be in a lot worse places. Or better, depending on who you ask.” Gabe simpers, one of his hands sliding down Patrick’s upper thigh and back up again before digging his nails into the denim.

 

“Fuck you.” Patrick grumbles, touching his forehead to Gabe’s.

 

“You wish, honey.” Gabe retorts. Patrick settles for burying his face in Gabe’s neck and shutting his eyes. He feels content, but only for a moment. He’s ripped out of his thoughts by the thump of footsteps down the stairs. His head snaps up quickly, and he tightens his hands on the back of Gabe’s neck as he makes eye contact with Pete.

 

A very sleep deprived, angry Pete who probably hasn’t showered since the last time Patrick saw him. It’s sort of gross, but Patrick mostly feels bad for him now. He tries to say anything to make this better, considers scrambling off Gabe’s lap and begging for forgiveness. He’s having trouble remembering why he thought this was a good idea. Pete just looks _hurt._

 

Patrick did want to hurt him, he’ll admit. He just didn’t think it would make him feel this guilty. He can feel Gabe stiffen beneath him when Pete finally opens his mouth to speak.

 

“Why him and not _me_?” Pete asks, the words rolling off his tongue, full of venom. Patrick swallows hard, stutters over his own tongue.

 

“I don’t-” Patrick stumbles over the tangle of cords across the floor when he attempts to get off Gabe and makes an aborted hand gesture  to reach out for Pete. “What do you mean?” Patrick whispers, because he doesn’t know what else to say. The room has gone dead silent, everyone around them frozen in place. Pete did always love making a scene.

 

“Why did you pick him to fall in love with? He plays bass, he writes lyrics, he’s getting a degree in political science for fuck’s sake! He plays soccer. He’s practically a fucking carbon copy of me.” Pete ticks the list off on his fingers, his face turning red with rage. Gabe sends a desperate glance at his bandmates and they all silently make their way up the stairs with their equipment.

 

“I think that’s my cue.” Gabe says, quieter than he’s probably ever been in his entire life. Patrick wants to beg him not to leave him alone with Pete, but this mess is all his own making. He shouldn’t keep dragging everyone else into it. Gabe kisses Patrick on the cheek and then he’s gone. Pete looks like he’s contemplating tripping him on his way up the stairs, but seems to control himself.

 

“Are you gonna fucking answer me or not?” Pete growls, crossing his arms over his chest and blocking the exit. Patrick feels helpless, a bit like a cornered animal. Isn’t he supposed to be the Alpha around here? He wishes he knew how to be one.

 

“I didn’t realize all of that.” Patrick swallows. “I don’t know why. I thought he was handsome. And sweet. Most importantly...we didn’t have history.” Patrick admits. Pete’s face falls.

 

“You’re saying you chose him over me because you didn’t wanna ruin our friendship? That’s bullshit. You love him because he’s a lot less fucked up in the head than I am.” Pete’s practically screaming now, he’s sure his mother can hear it.

 

“No. That’s not it at all, Pete. There’s nothing wrong with you.” Patrick groans, running his hands through his hair. Why must this be so frustrating?

 

“Clearly there must be! Otherwise you would’ve been with me, like we were always meant to be.” Pete hisses.

 

“It’s not that simple.” Patrick tries to placate him, taking a few steps until the tips of their shoes are touching.

 

“Why the fuck did you invite me over to walk in on you hanging all over him? To fucking torture me?” Pete glares down at him like he’s ruined everything they’ve built.

 

“No.” Patrick says it too quickly, the lie falling from his lips and burning him from the inside out when he sees how wounded Pete looks. He’s fucked this up so bad.

 

“You did! You did it on purpose to hurt me. Jesus fucking Christ. I can’t believe you. Why would you do that?” Pete is shoving him back by the chest, lashing out with his fists. Patrick ducks, tries to grab at his wrists and misses. Pete fights dirty, too fast. Patrick can’t control his instincts, flaring up suddenly so that he’s slamming Pete against the wall with his hands around his neck. Pete is being bad. He has to force him to submit, because that’s what good Omegas do.

 

Pete melts into his touch, pushing to get closer to Patrick with defiance shining in his amber eyes.

 

“What are you gonna do, use your Alpha voice on me?” Pete taunts. Patrick huffs, grabs Pete’s arms and pins them to the wall above his head instead.

 

“Tell me your truth and I’ll tell you mine.” Patrick demands. He’s trembling with the amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins, with Pete so close and smelling so good.

 

“I didn’t know you were lying to me about something.” Pete frowns, voice unnaturally calm as he raises an eyebrow.

 

“Just  tell me how you really feel, you stupid motherfucker.” Patrick groans. Pete’s hot breath washes over his face as he chuckles humorlessly.

 

“Like you don’t already know.” Pete slams his head back into the wall a few times in frustration.

 

“Stop that.” Patrick commands, letting go of Pete’s arms and sliding one hand around his neck and the other behind his head. “Say it. I want you to.”

 

“I’m in love with you! But it doesn’t _matter.”_ Pete bellows, ripping himself out of Patrick’s grip and pacing across the basement floor, full of manic energy. Patrick’s heart seizes up in his chest hearing the words come out of his mouth, watching him move around the room like lightning.

 

“Of course it matters. Why wouldn’t it?” Patrick asks gently.

 

“BECAUSE YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM!” Pete screams at the top of his lungs, nearly pulling his hair out at the roots. Patrick feels the guilt rising up his throat like bile, but he pushes it down. Despite everything, his lips quirk up with the beginnings of a smile.

 

“I’m really, really not. I never was.” Patrick laughs, suddenly full of hope so bright it burns. Pete deflates, a look of utter disbelief on his face as he falls back onto the couch like he’s been shot.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about.” Pete says flatly, his voice sounding small and betrayed.

 

“I lied. I’m not in love with him. We weren’t even actually dating. It started out as me wanting to hurt you, like you hurt me. But then I just wanted you to admit how you felt about me.” Patrick admits, and then Pete is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and shoving him down onto the couch. Pete is on top of him, pinning him to the cushions and digging his fingernails into skin. Patrick winces, closes his eyes and waits for impact.

 

“You crafted an elaborate scheme to fuck with my feelings when you already knew I was into you? That’s super fucked up, Stump.” Pete leans back, all of his weight resting on Patrick’s torso as he rubs at his eyes, his face full of agony.

 

“I’m sorry. I know. I was angry and I was tired of watching you fuck a different person every week. I love you too, by the way.” Patrick sighs with the relief of telling the secret he’s tried to keep buried for so long.

 

“Say that again.” Pete pleads, voice desperate as he looms over Patrick, so close their noses are almost touching.

 

“I’m in love with you. I always have been.” Patrick shrugs, because he can’t help it. Loving Pete is like breathing at this point.

 

Pete slaps him across the face. Patrick howls, rubbing at his stinging cheek.

 

“You’re lucky I didn’t hit you harder. Serves you right. Pretending to date Gabe fucking Saporta. I’m genuinely appalled that I bought it.” Pete muses.

 

“I did say I was sorry. And it got you to admit you love me, didn’t it?” Patrick says sheepishly. He cracks an eye open to gauge Pete’s expression. He still looks angry.

 

“That’s not fair. You manipulated me. You lied to me. You can’t ever do that again.” Pete says, his face grim.

 

“I understand.” Patrick swallows hard. “I just have a hard time believing you’re in love with me when you never gave me any signals until _after_ I presented as an Alpha. Way to make a guy feel like a piece of meat.”

 

Pete’s face softens marginally.

 

“I took you any way I could get you Patrick. I was afraid you would reject me. I offered to be friends with benefits because I thought it would be easier.” Pete sighs, a bit dejectedly. “Finding out you were an Alpha was like a green light for me. I thought it was fate.”

 

“We’re both really fucking stupid, aren’t we?” Patrick whines, carefully wrapping his arms around Pete’s waist.

 

“Very. I’m still mad at you.” Pete says, trying to be stern. “But I’ve waited my entire life to kiss you and if I go another second without that I may die.”

 

Patrick laughs, and he’s cut off by the feeling of Pete’s lips pressing against his. It’s gentle, soft as he opens his mouth and lets Pete’s tongue in. Pete cradles his face in his hands and bites at his lower lip, pulling at the flesh with his teeth before separating.

 

“Why haven’t we been doing that this whole time?” Patrick beams, giddy with all the feelings coursing through him.

 

“Because we’re both assholes who don’t know how to communicate. Now shut up and kiss me again, Trick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im pretty sure this isn't how the story ends.....come talk to me on tumblr @gothipete or leave a comment :) chapter title from bang the doldrums!
> 
> p.s. sorry this was posted two days later than it should've been....happy easter lol.


	9. to fingers crossed, to i swear i say

“You still smell like him.” Pete grumbles, scrunching up his nose in distaste even as he buries his face further into Patrick’s neck. Patrick has taken approximately four showers since Gabe left town, and they’re literally tangled together in his bed but Pete is still complaining about the stench.

“It’s been at least a week. I smell just like I always do. Stop being weird.” Patrick huffs, running a hand through Pete’s hair and messing it up further. Pete whines, muffled against Patrick’s throat. Pete looks up at him suddenly, his eyes shining with a spark of something Patrick can’t place.

“About that birthday gift...did you like it? Because it’s important you answer honestly.” Pete laughs, the look on his face pure exhilaration. He’s got an idea. Patrick is careful with his answer.

“I did. I love it. It means a lot to me.” Patrick smiles a little, bashful.

“I was hoping you would. Because I want you to be in a band with me.” Pete raises his eyebrows, shining with hope and recklessness. Patrick hates to be the one to crush it.

“Pete, I can’t. We’ve been over this. I’m not a singer, and I sure as hell am not a front man.” Patrick argues.

“Listen to me. You have the most amazing voice I’ve ever fucking heard. You can play guitar too. It’s different this time, I swear.” Pete pleads, his hands clutching at Patrick’s shoulders.

“What makes this different than any of your other bands?” Patrick groans, shaking his head. Pete has a bit of a reputation, moving from band to band like it’s going out of style. Not to mention, hardcore screamo is so not Patrick’s thing.

“Because it’s you and me, Baby P. We can do anything together. I can find us a drummer and another guitarist. In fact, I have two perfect candidates in mind.” Why must Pete be so goddamn charming?

“Don’t call me that. If I agree to this...you have to be the front man.” Patrick sighs.

Pete shrieks, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug and smothering Patrick with his weight, pinning him to the bed. He licks the side of Patrick’s neck before he pulls back and Patrick grimaces in response, feels the heat tingling down his spine but tries to keep his expression even.

“You won’t regret this, I promise, Tricky. It’s gonna fucking rule!”

“Yeah, yeah. Calm down. We still need two more members. Who did you want to ask?” Patrick tries to act put upon, as if he’s not incredibly fond of this tiny boy whose so full of life he might burst.

xxx

The following week finds Pete, Joe, Andy, and Patrick practicing in his basement. Joe was easy to convince, as always. Andy, however, was a little chagrined.

“You expect me to want to be in a band with an alpha and omega who are both incredibly full of hormones? Yeah, that sounds like fun.” Note the sarcasm. After Pete heckled him for a good fifteen minutes he gave in with a shrug.

Patrick briefly forgot how shitty of a bass player Pete is. He’s getting frustrated, to say the least. Andy is a beast on the drums, so they have nothing to worry about there. Joe needs some work before he has the melody Patrick wrote down, but he’s making quick work of it. They haven’t put words to the song yet, they’re just working on the instruments. Building a foundation.

It would go a lot more smoothly if Pete didn’t have fumbling fingers and wasn’t trying to practice spinning in circles without hitting the wall or the drum kit. If he breaks anything down here Patrick won’t hesitate to strangle him.

“Pete,” Patrick grits his teeth. “Knock that shit off and sit down. Let me show you how to do it.”

Pete doesn’t look fazed, goes to hand the bass off before Patrick holds up his hands and stops him.

“No. Hold onto it. I’m just gonna guide you, okay?” Patrick takes a deep breath, making sure he doesn’t trip over the many cords laid out across the floor as he makes his way behind where Pete is sitting and leans over him to fix the placement of his hands.

Patrick is shaking with the proximity, can’t help but breathe in Pete’s otherworldly smell. He’s so tempted to scent him but he knows he shouldn’t; not here. But he’s just so sweet and warm and close. Patrick takes Pete’s wrist and slides it up the neck of the bass until it’s on the proper fret.

Pete’s hair is in his eyes, Patrick has no idea how he can even fucking see what he’s doing. He wants to push it off Pete’s forehead but he knows that wouldn’t be a good choice. He helps Pete through the bass part of the song a few times until his fingers get less clumsy and Patrick is starting to sweat with how little space is between them. He can smell the arousal coming off of Pete, thick and cloying, and he has to get away from here before he can’t control himself any longer.

Joe is in another world, strumming along and tapping his foot. Andy shoots him a knowing look from behind the kit. Pete looks up at him, pupils dilated and bottom lip stuck out like he’s silently begging for Patrick to stay. To do something he absolutely shouldn’t. At least not in front of their friends. Too much too soon.

Patrick does the only thing he can do. He sets down the guitar, steps up to the mic, and starts to sing. It isn’t a song of theirs, because they have no words to speak of, but the boys seems to pick it up quick enough and try to play along.

He can’t make eye contact with anyone, pulls his hat down as far as it’ll go and stares at his shoes. He can feel the words flowing through him like a livewire, his voice getting stronger as the song draws to a close and the basement is dead silent.

Andy and Joe start to applaud him, cheering and whooping. Patrick blushes down to his toes, braces himself to look up at Pete and nearly feels his knees give out. Pete is looking at him like he’s the only thing that exists in the entire universe. Like he’s made of liquid gold. He’s reverent when he places the bass down on the couch and approaches Patrick.

Patrick is wide-eyed as Pete backs him up against the wood paneling and places his hands on either side of Patrick’s head. It’s a twisted imitation of what Gabe was doing a few weeks ago, caging him in so he can’t escape. This isn’t the way that omegas are supposed to act, he realizes distinctly. Pete never was one to follow the rules. It most definitely feels like a power move in whatever game it is they’re playing.

Patrick isn’t expecting the kiss when it comes, though maybe he should have. Pete is pressing his lips to Patrick’s hard, all force and enthusiasm. Patrick parts his mouth against his better judgement. He’s fuzzy with lightning coursing through his veins. He puts his hands in Pete’s dark hair and pulls, drawing a strangled moan from the older boy. Pete nips at his bottom lip before he pulls back, utterly satisfied.

Patrick’s hands fall to his sides before he pushes against Pete’s chest. Pete doesn’t budge, he just looks at Patrick, starry-eyes and big dreams.

“You’re like my own personal sunshine machine. Fucking incredible.” Pete whispers, licking his lips like an invitation Patrick aches to fulfill yet again. He doesn’t. Mainly because Andy clears his throat loudly and glares at Pete.

“Hey, Hurley. Fuck off. We were having a moment.” Pete sounds like venom disguised as sickly sweet. Joe laughs, if only to fill the tense silence that follows.

Patrick edges himself out from between Pete and the wall and flops back onto the couch, looking up at their friends expectant faces.

“Well? You’re just dying to ask, so go ahead!” Patrick bellows, his voice shrill and his face bright red. Pete sits next to him, the rips in the thighs of Pete’s jeans rubbing against his own and creating an electric shock.

“Are you guys like, a _thing_ now?” Joe asks, his mouth twitching upwards at the corners with uncontrolled joy. Andy raises an eyebrow at them, pursing his lips like he has a better question. Pete goes to say _what are we, in high school?_ and then promptly starts giggling hysterically, because he realizes that they are. He’s literally the only one of them who isn’t in high school. Patrick stares at him incredulously a moment before he answers.

“We are. Will that be a problem?” Patrick states, his voice clipped and firm. Joe shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. Andy, however, seems to have a few complaints.

“It definitely could be. Have you guys thought this through? Did you tell Pete about what really went down with Gabe?” Patrick feels like he’s being interrogated by Andy’s hard stare and stern voice.

“Yes. I told him the truth.” Patrick replies, right to the point. Pete grabs his hand and rubs soothing circles into his palm with his thumb.

“And he didn’t want to bury Gabe?” Joe snorts, disbelieving.

“Not anymore. I’m mad at him, but he’s not actually trying to steal the love of my life, so. I’ll get over it.” Pete shrugs.

“You two don’t think it’s a conflict of interest that our lead singer and our bassist turned frontman are dating? What happens if you break up?” Andy looks upset at the prospect.

“There’s nothing to worry about. We promise. We’re gonna become mates during my next heat.” Pete admits, the smile on his face bashful and full of pride. Patrick hits him in the shoulder, but he can’t help but smile back. He wanted to tell them after it was official, damn it. This means Patrick will have to tell his mother sooner than planned.

He has a feeling she won’t be too keen to let him go off on tour with an older boy after graduation, mate or not.

“You guys are so cute.” Joe swoons, clutching his chest dramatically. Patrick wishes he was being ironic.

“Oh.” Andy says, before the sunniest smile Patrick has ever seen appears on his face. It looks weird, out of place on him it’s so wide. “Congratulations. It’s about fucking time.” Andy leans down to hug them both and Joe jumps over the back of the couch to squish himself between them.

Patrick gets a lot of knees and elbows in the ribs, but it ends with Pete in his lap, so he’s not complaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one chapter to go!!! hope you enjoyed the ride :-) come talk to me on tumblr @gothicpete or leave a comment. 
> 
> title from Xo!


	10. i'm good to go for something golden

Patrick writes _Saturday_ just a few days before graduation. He’s pressed into Pete’s side, and he’s scribbling the words into Pete’s tattered notebook. They’re taking turns, crossing things out and rewriting until they have a semblance of a real, tangible song that represents how Patrick feels.

 

He thinks it properly captures what he and Pete are all about. Patrick is afraid of failure, but he’s taking a chance. He’s got potential, so close to making a dream come true he can taste it. Patrick and Pete are taking on the world together. Stupidly, recklessly in love. It’s scary, but it’s already the best thing Patrick has ever done.

 

Even if the band doesn’t work out, even if it’s doomed from the start. Patrick will always have Pete by his side, cheering him on. Nothing else really matters. _Saturday_ is full of hope. Closing one chapter of his life and starting a better one. It’s freedom. He takes Pete’s hand in his and kisses his knuckles, because that’s something he can finally do. It’s effortless.

 

Pete beams at him like a spotlight.

 

xxx

 

Graduation comes in a flurry of feeling itchy and sweating in the sweltering heat of the outdoor ceremony. But Pete is sitting next to his parents in the audience and waving.

 

It all feels like a blur from there. Somehow Pete has already charmed his mother, and begrudgingly, his father into letting Patrick skip his celebration dinner in favor of spending the night with him. He feels a little guilty about it, but he’ll have the entire weekend with them before he plans on leaving for the tour.

 

Patrick accepts hugs from both his parents, and then he lets Pete take his hand and lead him to the parking lot where his car is. Patrick is all for hats, but this cap is not in his usual repertoire and it has to go. He takes it off, throws it in the backseat. He unzips the gown and throws it back there too.

 

Pete is grinning at him fondly, with his eyebrows raised.

 

“You wore an entire outfit under that thing? No wonder you were dying of heat stroke.” Pete chuckles. Patrick punches him in the arm as he pulls out into the road.

 

“Whatever. Where are we going?” Patrick asks, kicking his feet up on the dash. Pete doesn’t answer, just shoves Patrick’s legs back down with a grunt and a furrowed brow. Patrick pouts, but Pete doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

 

Patrick rolls his eyes, leans his head against the window and hums along to the radio until they stop in front of what looks like the local cemetery.

 

Pete shuts the car off and offers him no explanation as he slams his door shut and comes around the other side to let Patrick out before hitting the lock button.

 

Patrick takes his hand gingerly and follows him as he weaves through the lines of headstones and stops at a large maple tree.

 

“Why in the everloving fuck would you bring me here?” Patrick blurts, in the light of the setting sun in the purple sky. Pete slides down until he’s leaning against the tree and takes Patrick with him, so they’re sitting in the dirt with their knees touching, facing each other.

 

“Sorry, it’s a little weird. I used to come here when I felt really alone, like I couldn’t ask you for help. This place would always calm me down. No one else here could talk, or take anything from me.” Pete sighs, taking Patrick’s other hand in his and squeezing.

 

“You are the most morbid, overdramatic emo kid I have ever met. Are you auditioning to be Jack Skellington or something?” Patrick teases.

 

“I wish.” Pete snorts. “I don’t know. This just seemed like the right place for the end of something monumental. It’s where the dead are put to rest.”

 

“Are we putting teenage me to rest, then? That’d be great. I have two more years left and I’d like to avoid the embarrassment.” Patrick laughs.

 

“Nah. Teenage you has always been cute. Teenage _me,_ however, was a goddamn mess.” Pete admits.

 

“You’ve always been a mess. Nothing wrong with that.” Patrick tilts his head up to look at the sky through the branches of the tree. Pete hums noncommittally, following Patrick’s gaze upwards.

 

“You know, not everything here is dead. This tree is alive, and so are we. Maybe that just goes to show you that even in the end, we prevail, and choose to start again.” Pete states wistfully.

 

“You’re waxing poetic about a biological life cycle.” Patrick says, deadpan.

 

“There’s nothing scientific about having a soul, Patty boy. You should try it sometime.” Patrick lets out an indignant squawk and pins Pete against the bark, thighs tight around his hips and holding onto Pete’s wrists.

 

“What do you think I am, a robot?” Patrick scoffs, their noses touching. Pete’s going cross eyed trying to look at him.

 

“Of course not. You’d be a sexy robot, though.” Patrick lets go of Pete’s wrists and pinches his nipple before Pete’s laughing into his mouth.

 

They stay that way for an insurmountable length of time, making out against a tree in a graveyard. Patrick thinks it’s kind of badass. Aside from the whole being celibate until Pete’s heat hits, which is like two months from now. Too long, if you ask him. He’s desperate, but Pete won’t budge.

 

You get really good at kissing when it’s all you do. Well, that and Pete whispering dirty promises into his mouth. Patrick’s not complaining, really. He’s just an impatient horny teenage boy. And he’d like to get a handle on how this whole Alpha thing works sooner rather than later.

 

Eventually, Pete pulls back from him with an audibly wet _pop._ Pete grins at him dreamily, properly disheveled and his hair mussed to hell.

 

“I just got that feeling.” Pete says. Patrick buries his face in Pete’s neck, temptingly close to his gland.

 

“What?” Patrick murmurs, holding his breath.

 

“That feeling I get right before dawn. When everything is still and quiet. That feeling that the world can be perfect.” Pete whispers, grabbing Patrick by the back of the neck so he can tuck his chin above Patrick’s head.

 

Patrick grins against Pete’s golden throat, and doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. Pete has the words for him. He always does. He feels warm. Happy. Safe. Pete is right. The world can be perfect. Even if it’s only for a moment.

 

xxx

 

“We’re leaving tomorrow! Lighten up, Stumpalicious.” Pete bellows as he stomps his way through Patrick’s bedroom door and flops onto the bed next to a sulking Patrick.

 

“Not if my mom has anything to say about it.” Patrick grumbles, rolling onto his back and instantly regretting it when Pete lays on top of him and he gets an elbow to the stomach.

 

“What are you talking about? I already asked her if it was okay. Like three days ago.” Pete says, innocently, but the wolfish grin on his face tells a different story. He’s been holding onto this secret all weekend. Patrick doesn’t like surprises, but he thinks Pete might be an exception to every one of his rules.

 

“What? How? _When?_ ” Patrick asks desperately. The fact that  this is his life now is still something Patrick is trying to wrap his head around.

 

“During your graduation ceremony. You know, when we were gushing about how proud of you we all were. Patricia has always been _extremely_ easy to convince.” Pete says slowly, as if Patrick is stupid.

 

“Someday she’s gonna realize you’re the devil in disguise.” Patrick teases, but he can’t stop smiling. He hopes his face doesn’t get stuck like this, utterly starstruck with hearts spilling out of his eyes.

 

“Pfft. Impossible. She’s wanted us to be together since before we even knew what love was. She also knows I’d rather die than let anything bad happen to you.” Pete says sagely.

 

“You’ve got a point. You’re too damn charming, Wentz.” Patrick concedes. Pete nips Patrick’s chin and smiles down at him adoringly.

 

“You _loooooove_ me.” Pete sing-songs.

 

“It’s unfortunate. Hopefully it’s not contagious.” Patrick scrunches up his nose in mock distaste. Pete yanks the hat off his head and throws it across the room in retaliation.

 

“I’m a pleasure to be around.” Pete sniffs haughtily, raising his nose in the air.

 

“Really? I don’t think I’m getting a whole lot of pleasure out of this arrangement right now.” Patrick retorts, sticking his tongue out like a toddler.

 

“Listen,” Pete starts, suddenly deathly serious. “It’s not that I don’t want to, okay? I just wanna wait so we can do this _right.”_

 

“Now is the time you decide to be all traditional and noble?” Patrick groans.

 

“‘Fraid so, hot stuff.” Pete laughs at Patrick’s suffering. It’s a common theme in their relationship. “You’ll thank me later, trust me.”

 

“My blue balls aren’t thanking you right now.” Patrick huffs.

 

“You’re the one who turned me down first!” Pete shoots back.

 

“Whatever.” Patrick shrugs, perturbed. “Let’s just watch a movie or something. Kissing you and it leading nowhere is torture.”

 

“I’m sorry. Promise I’ll make it up to you.” Pete says sheepishly, pecking his lips and getting up to sift through Patrick’s collection of movies.

 

“Can we watch-” Patrick starts before he’s abruptly cut off by Pete.

 

“If you say _Ghostbusters_ one more time I’m gonna strangle you.”

 

Patrick sticks out his lower lip. They end up watching _Ghostbusters_ again.

 

xxx

 

Tour goes something like this: Sleeping in the back of a shitty van. Being paid in cheap beer and pizza. Driving across the country and not showering much, if at all. A lot of dirty laundry. But Patrick is most definitely having the time of his life. Because he’s with Pete, and his other two best friends in the whole wide world.

 

It’s like a road trip they’re making their own soundtrack to. Granted, they only have a total of about eight songs and they don’t have a band name yet, but all things considered they’re doing pretty well. The kids like them. They reach Jersey, when they finally start to sing the words back. They have a long way to go, but Patrick is starting to believe this might really work.

 

What Patrick doesn’t know is that Pete has a stash of money on him at all times. For emergencies. More specifically a motel room for when he goes into heat.

It happens halfway through their makeshift tour. Patrick can smell it on him, the onset of heat. His scent changes, gets thicker, sweeter. Pete’s heat arrives a month early. Patrick is panicking so much you’d think Pete was in labor instead.

 

Andy, always the level headed one, calls the clubs and bars and whatever else they managed to book for their next two shows and cancels them both. That gives them four free days before they have to get back on the road.

 

“What do I do? Do we need to buy condoms? Are you on birth control?” Patrick hisses in the backseat, a whiny, sweating Pete wrapped around him.

 

“Of course I am, asshole. I’ve got money for the motel up the street. Pull in up here, Andy.” Pete says, his voice trembling like the rest of him. Patrick stares at him, mouth wide open, and helps him out of the van once it’s stopped moving. Pete hands off the money and Andy books them two separate rooms. Joe wolf whistles at them as he follows Andy down the hall to their room.

 

Patrick has an arm over Pete’s shoulders, keeping him steady. It’s almost like when he’s drunk, except he’s possibly even more needy. Patrick slides the key card into the slot and shoves the door open with his shoulder.

 

He guides Pete to the bed and lays him down gently. Pete whimpers, trying to cling to him, but Patrick needs a minute to collect himself. He takes a step back from the bed and starts pacing the room, wringing his hands together much to Pete’s chagrin.

 

Pete can’t seem to contain himself, his chest rising and falling quickly as he pulls his hoodie off along with the shirt underneath it. Patrick stares, his mouth filling with saliva as he takes in the expanse of honey gold skin, the jet black of the ink glowing in the dim light of the motel room.

 

He takes a deep breath of that heavenly scent, and then he makes the strides until he’s on top of Pete and tugging his skinny jeans down his legs. Pete’s staring at him, eyes glazed over with desire, and suddenly Patrick is afraid to take off his clothes. To bear his soul to this man that he’s loved for practically his entire life. It seems so stupid, to be afraid in this moment. But he can’t help it, the insecurities crawling all over him like bugs.

 

He hovers, rigid over Pete, and before he can think to speak, Pete is moving again. He’s shoving his boxers down his thighs, until he’s completely bare in front of Patrick. He makes a wounded sound, like a dying animal, and then all he can do is kiss Pete senseless.

 

Pete can tell how nervous he is, even in the haze of his heat. He must feel Patrick trembling against him, because he pulls back and rubs a soothing hand over Patrick’s cheek.

 

“Relax. Just let it happen.”

 

Patrick melts against him, lets Pete scrabble for the buttons on his cardigan and then tug his shirt over his head too. Patrick can tell he’s flushing, his hair sticking up in every direction, but he’s never felt safer and more _right_ than he does in this moment.

 

He tugs at his belt buckle, gets distracted when Pete’s tongue touches the roof of his mouth, but eventually gets his pants undone and thrown to the floor. Pete maneuvers him, stealthy as ever, until Patrick is on his back looking up at Pete.

 

Pete decides the best course of action is to take off Patrick’s boxers. With his teeth. Patrick sucks in a deep breath, his stomach trembling as Pete’s nose brushes against his inner thigh on the way down.

 

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Patrick asks breathily.

 

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Pete smirks, winking at Patrick before trailing kisses up his abdomen and all the way to his chest. Patrick rolls his eyes halfheartedly, and then he’s gripping Pete’s hips so he can trail a hand down his spine and put his fingers where Pete really wants them.

 

He slides both of his hands down to Pete’s ass, pulling him open and swirling the tip of his finger around his hole. Pete whimpers, twitching towards the sensation, but Patrick doesn’t go further. He brings his finger to his mouth and sucks on it, and he can’t help the guttural moan that slips past his lips.

 

“How do I taste?” Pete asks, shifting on Patrick’s lap, eyes dark and intense as he watches Patrick pull his finger out of his mouth and tilt his head, considering.

 

“Sweet, with a little bit of spice. Fucking delectable.” Patrick states, licking his lips. Pete grabs a hold of Patrick’s wrist and puts his hand back where he needs it.

 

“Show me what you’re made of, Alpha.” Pete grins like a shark, all teeth. He feels a low growl emanating from his chest at being called _Alpha_ by the man of his dreams. Patrick is never one to back down from a challenge.

 

Patrick circles the tip of his finger around Pete’s hole, wet and ready. He pushes the digit inside slowly, and Pete’s reaction is visceral. He squirms, trying to rub his dick against Patrick’s stomach, and throwing his head back to bare his neck for the taking.

 

Patrick leans in, pressing his face against Pete’s neck, and scents him. Rubbing his face and hair all over Pete, dousing him so their smells intertwine and Patrick feels as if he’s finally marked Pete as his own. Patrick tucks his chin over Pete’s shoulder, watching his finger go in and out of him.

 

Pete is gasping, whispering utter filth into his ear and making his cock throb with it. Patrick adds a second finger, feeling Pete clench around them and start to thrust down onto his hand. He’s so wet, slick dripping down his wrist and onto the sheets.

 

Patrick adds a third finger, twisting them just so and trying to find that bundle of nerves inside Pete. He knows when he does, because Pete cries out, breath hitching and clenching vice tight around Patrick. He watches Pete’s face as his hand moves against his dick in a  blur.

 

Pete arches up against him, and then he shoots up between their bodies with a full body shudder, before slumping back down against the bed and closing his eyes. Patrick is smiling down at him when Pete finally opens his eyes, and with a lazy grin Pete shoves at his chest so they both fall backward against the other side of the bed. Pete catches Patrick’s eyes and climbs into his lap, trying to grind down on Patrick’s dick.

 

Patrick chuckles and carefully extracts his fingers, letting Pete situate himself without complaint. He wraps his arms around Pete’s waist, and then Pete is reaching down and grabbing Patrick’s dick, lining it up with his entrance.

 

“You ready?” Pete asks gently, flicking his eyes up to meet with Patricks. His heart swells at that. He’s supposed to be taking care of Pete right now, not the other way around. He takes a deep breath and nods his ascent.

 

Then Pete is sinking down, enveloping him in tight heat. Patrick’s mouth is wide open, jaw slack and eyelashes fluttering as he tries not to come immediately.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Patrick groans as Pete starts to move.

 

“Pete will do just fine.” Pete laughs, and Patrick would smack him upside the head if he wasn’t ready to burst.

 

“Shut up. Do you want me to bite you or not?” Patrick gets out through gritted teeth. Pete stops moving on top of him, leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around Patrick’s neck.

 

“Yes. Want you to breed me more, though.” Pete admits, panting in his ear. Patrick’s eyes nearly roll back at the thought. It’s a normal thing for an Omega to beg for during heat, but somehow he wasn’t expecting it. It’s not like it can happen yet anyway, with Pete on birth control, but if that’s what he wants Patrick can pretend.

 

“I can do that for you, baby.” Patrick simpers, getting a good grip on Pete’s sharp hip bones and thrusting up into him with force. He can finally feel those primal instincts kicking in, wanting to make this Omega his mate. To make him feel good. Keep him forever and protect him.

 

Patrick pulls Pete down onto his cock, impaling him and making him whimper.

 

“You want me to fill you up?” Patrick growls, slapping Pete’s hand away from his cock.

 

“Yes, Alpha. _Please_.” Pete pleads, pulling Patrick’s hair hard until he can fit their mouths together again.

 

Patrick moans against his mouth, jutting up into him as fast as he can. Pete’s hands drag down his back, digging his fingernails into skin and leaving lines of red. Patrick howls at the burn of pleasure and pain, and then he’s coming inside of Pete. He feels his walls tightening as Patrick’s knot pops, making him feel full. Patrick jackknifes forward, burying his face in Pete’s neck before finding his spot and biting down as hard as he can.

 

Pete screams with the feeling. Patrick’s mouth explodes with flavor, feels the bond tighten and set. It makes him feel delirious, like he’s floating high above with Pete’s sweet scent filling the air around him and his whimpers still punctuating their heavy breathing and heaving bodies.

 

Patrick continues until he can’t remember where he ends and Pete begins. He holds onto Pete for dear life as his vision goes white, burning bright with ecstasy. Pete comes again with Patrick inside him, squeezing tight and adding to the sticky mess on their stomachs with pearly ribbons.

 

Patrick releases his hold on Pete’s neck as Pete collapses against him and presses kisses to his jawline. They’re both heaving in gulps of air, trying to catch their breath. They’re locked together for the next half hour until Patrick’s knot goes down but Pete wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.

 

Patrick traces the indents of his teeth in Pete’s neck, like a brand new tattoo. Pete pulls back, beaming at Patrick.

 

“You’re beautiful, you know that? I love you.” Pete says it like it’s a secret. It doesn’t have to be anymore. Patrick smiles, and kisses him again.

 

“I love you too. More than you could ever know.” Pete puts his head on Patrick’s chest and listens to his heartbeat for a while.

 

“Knew I could make you sing in bed, too.” Patrick can feel Pete’s smirk against his skin. Patrick sighs, put upon.

 

“I was a virgin. It wasn’t really that hard to get me singing for it.” Patrick says, fondly exasperated.

 

“Whatever. You just think I’m sexy.” Pete chuckles tiredly, exhaustion already catching up with him from the freshly made bond.

 

“I’ve never met another person on this planet that doesn’t think you’re hot.” Patrick deadpans.

 

“Aww, honey, are you jealous?” Pete mocks him, frowning in an incredibly over exaggerated manner. Drama queen.

 

“We literally just mated. You’re stuck with me for life, dude.” Patrick snorts.

 

“Sounds like a deal. What do you get out of it?” Pete sticks his tongue out at him and then climbs back on top of Patrick’s chest, closing his eyes. Patrick thinks he’s fishing for compliments at this point.

 

“Everything.” Patrick says softly. It’s the truth, after all. Pete looks like he’s going to cry. He presses a kiss to Patrick’s chest, and mumbles “Me too, Lunchbox.” before falling asleep.

 

Patrick rubs his back and smiles up at the ceiling dopily. He’s gonna have to call Gabe and thank him for this.

 

xxx

 

Pete’s in such a good mood after his heat, he actually invites Gabe to their next show. It turns out it’s not that far from Gabe’s hometown, where he was visiting his family. Patrick is pleasantly surprised, if a little skeptical.

 

Gabe stands right in front of the stage, showing his megawatt smile to Patrick and cheering obnoxiously loud. Patrick smiles back sheepishly, and keeps singing. Pete presses against his side and mouths the words against Patrick’s neck, making him suck in a sharp breath and fuck up the next chord. Patrick keeps singing on autopilot, breathes in the combination of his and Pete’s scent, and bites his lip to contain the feeling of his heart fit to burst.

 

Right before _Saturday_ , the last song of the set, Pete grabs onto the mic and says he wants to ask their audience a question. The bar is jam packed, and Patrick noticed a lot of people singing along tonight.

 

“What do you guys think our name should be?” Pete yells, and then he extends his arm with the mic out towards the audience.

 

“You’re Fall Out Boy!” Someone shouts, and then everyone starts chanting it. Patrick can’t believe it, heart pounding in his ears. He heard the name floating around at a few other gigs on this tour, that people were calling them that. He knows where the reference is from, he just wasn’t sure if it would stick, if it really fit them. Pete confirms it.

 

“We’re motherfucking Fall Out Boy, and this is Saturday! Sing along if you know the words.” Pete screams, and Patrick can feel the pulse of the music through his whole body when he starts to sing, a smirk fighting it’s way onto his face as he pours everything he has into it.

 

With his mate and his two best friends behind him, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end. i hope you all enjoyed the ride! i can't believe i finished my first chaptered fic. wow. thank you for all the lovely comments. stick around if you wanna read my next peterick fic, which is a high school theatre au :-) 
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothicpete. yell about fob. send me prompts for more fic. what have you. 
> 
> chapter title is from saturday, of course.


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